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jadequeen88 · 3 years

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RED AND THE WOLF

I’m a little late to the game, BUT here is my contribution the the Citrus Dome’s BNHA Fairytale!AU collab! Check out the other works here.

A/N: this was completed and uploaded on mobile, so please let me know of any typos! It’s also not beta read and I’m a little self conscious of the ending. But regardless, I hope you guys enjoy!

Half Giant!Kirishima x Wolf!Bakugo x fem!reader

2.3k words

TW: threesome, kidnapping, tied up, size kink, a tad bit of breeding kink.

ALL FICS I WROTE ARE 18+. MINORS DNI

You scoffed at the warnings from the villagers and your family. You put as much stock in them as you did all the other old wives’ tales you’d been fed growing up (read, not fuckin much). You’d never seen any giants or knew anyone who did. Neither did you know anyone who could say they encountered a fierce man who shifts into the form of a golden wolf… So, you concluded, there was absolutely no reason to pay attention to the ramblings of the old assholes grumbling out tall tales into their fourth or fifth mug of ale…. or to the old washerwomen by the stream angrily beating their undergarments on the flat stones, yelling out as you entered the dark canopy of the forest.

********

“Ei!”

“Hmmmmgghhnn, what? Why do you wake me this early?” The massive man rolled to the other side of their shared bed, trying to ignore the loud, booming voice of his partner, and failing.

“I found one. It’s gotta be her…” he shivered, the long, golden tail he kept even in his human form bristled out, “Just wait until you smell her, Ei.”

The half-giant sprung up from the soft pillows and warm furs of the bed. He knew that not many things got his wolf this worked up so he had no choice but to believe him. Grabbing a small, leather band, he tied back his long, vibrant red mane of hair and threw on his tall, worn leather boots.

“Lead me to her, Katsuki.”

********

You didn’t even hear a rustle of leaves to warn you of the massive man approaching you from behind. Two arms the size of tree trunks latched around your waist and your back was pulled against a fleshy, warm wall of pure muscle. When a golden wolf that looked more like a lion jumped out into the path ahead of you, licking his muzzle with a long, red tongue, your brain refused to process exactly what was happening.

A scream was caught in your throat as a cloth was pressed to your mouth. The hand that held it could easily cover your entire face and you shuddered at the thought of who could possibly have hands that large.

“Shh, my sweet,” you could feel the deep rumble of his voice as his chest pressed even harder into your back, “Sleep now…”

********

The sounds of a crackling fire and the feeling of warm, sweet-smelling furs surrounding you lull you back into a peaceful sleep… until you try to turn over and realize a silk band has your wrists tied to one of the massive posts of the bed you’re sleeping on. Panic quickly takes over when you remember the events that lead up to you being here.

Before you can do more than thrash a bit and whimper, a large presence looms over you blocking out the glow of the fireplace. You think you must be dreaming because no man could ever actually be this large.

He had to be a full seven feet tall and four feet wide across his muscled shoulders. Long, crimson hair like a lion’s mane surrounded his chiseled jawline and fell down his back. You noticed the sweet, spicy smell that enveloped you when buried in the furs was coming from him…

You know you should be more frightened than you were, but you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he was. His deep red eyes were kind and his pointed canines that peeked out from his plush lips as he smiled sent a thrill down your spine instead of scaring you (like they should have).

“O-oh… umm,” your gaze faltered under his intense scrutiny, “Where am I?” you hesitated a moment, “Sir?”

Kirishima wanted to pounce on you right then… so small and soft and pretty… You were going to look so good round with his child… but he knew to be careful with you for now. This would be so, so much sweeter if he didn’t have to force you.

“You’re home now, little one,” he said confidently as if you should have already known that.

“B-but, I was… I was supposed to be selling-”

You were cut off as Kirishima knelt beside you and bent forward to stroke your cheek with one of his massive hands, “My precious one,” he hummed and you couldn’t help but feel safe, “Your life has much more purpose now. You’re ours.”

Wait…

Before you could finish the question, another body lept onto the bed, causing the mattress to shift under you violently. A warm face was buried into your neck, then, and the scratchy stubble along with wild sniffing from the person’s nose sent full-body chills all over you.

“Kats!” the man in front of you barked out, “Down! Now!”

The person assaulting your neck (Kats?) huffed in annoyance and pulled away from you to sit back on folded legs, glaring into the other man’s eyes.

“I’ve been waiting all fuckin day, Shitty Hair!” you noticed his canines were even longer and sharper than the other man’s, “How long r’we just gonna watch her sleep? I can smell her! She’s fertile NOW!”

Now you were thoroughly confused and panic crossed your features.

Kirishima sighed and drug a hand down his face as he groaned in frustration. So much for easing you into things…

“Hey,” the familiar hand that was stroking your face brushed your hair back from your forehead, “Let’s start with names. I’m Eijiro, but you can call me Ei or Red.”

“Or Shitty Hair,” the blonde snickered, pleased with himself for getting a jab in on his companion.

“No,” Eijiro growled, momentarily meeting the other man’s gaze with clear irritation, “Don’t listen to the overgrown puppy.”

Said “puppy” stiffened beside you and was about to lunge over you to tackle Kirishima when you reached out and put a hand on his bare chest. He gave you a confused look and cocked his head to the side. You had no clue what compelled you to touch him, but you know that your hand moved before your brain could stop it.

“Please,” you whispered, “D-don’t fight…”

Both of them visibly relaxed. A light thump-thump-thump was heard on the bed and you noticed not only did he have a tail, but you caused it to wag happily. This caused you to giggle lightly and raise your hand to scratch his unruly, blonde spikes. A small voice in the back of your head was telling you that you should NOT be this relaxed and you should NOT be okay with what was happening, but the sighs and whimpers you were pulling from his gorgeous throat dulled any sense of fear you’d had.

Kirishima cleared his throat and you stopped your scratching to give him your attention (much to Katsuki’s annoyance). “This,” he said, pushing the blonde back from your body slightly and moving closer to your side, “is Katsuki. Or Kats.”

“But you can just call me Daddy if ya want,” he whispered in your ear and you felt a long (a slightly too long) tongue trail up from your collarbone to your ear. You couldn’t stop the little whimper that left your lips.

Eijiro outright growled at that and stood up, grabbing Katsuki by the hair and lifting him to eye level. Both of them were staring daggers at each other, so wound up and jealous they couldn’t see straight.

“No, please!” you thrashed against your restraints, not wanting to be underneath the two giants if they clashed, “I-I don’t want you to fight!” large tears reached the surface of your glassy eyes and both men instantly started fawning over you. Kirishima unfastened your wrists and pulled you into his large lap. He cradled you into his chest as Katsuki nuzzled his cheek into your plush thigh. It wasn’t until then that you realized that you were in your thin underclothes, the sheer material exposing your thighs and barely covering your pebbling nipples. Being so exposed pressed between the two men made your heart flutter and caused a heat to bloom in your stomach that spread all over your body.

You shifted slightly, feeling awkward and unsure of how to deal with the new sensations coursing through your body… and they seemed to pick up on it. Katsuki brushed his mouth along the skin of your thigh, not quite kissing and not quite licking, just gentle, feather-light drags of his lips. Eijiro’s large, calloused fingers traced circles into the skin of your stomach, slowly pulling your thin undergarment up, giving Katsuki more skin to indulge in.

Your head rolled back onto Ejiro’s chest and he looked at you adoringly. “Have you ever lain with a man before, sweet lamb?” his hand spanned your entire midsection as he slid the thin fabric up to sit below your breasts. Katsuki growled and nipped at the exposed skin of your tender belly, soothing it over quickly with his warm tongue. When his eager mouth trailed below your belly button, Eijiro’s other hand grabbed a fist full of blonde hair for the second time. Katsuki looked murderous but didn’t say a word. He knew if he didn’t play nice, he’d end up having to watch his mate fuck you into their mattress as he stroked his cock.

“No… no, sir. I haven’t…”

He seemed to hum in approval at your response and you noticed a very large, very HARD bulge forming underneath you. You stiffened and for a moment, wondered if it would even be possible for that THING to fit inside your virgin cunt. A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“Don’t worry. We will prepare you so that it doesn’t hurt too badly.” as if on cue, Katsuki grabbed your thighs and slid you down the bed so his face was at your core. With very little warning, his tongue was eagerly lapping at your clothed slit. It felt nothing like the tentative swirls of your fingertips you’d indulge in occasionally in the dead of night tucked safely under your covers. This was foreign, electrifying, and slightly terrifying. Eijiro caressed your hardened nipples, circling your areolas gently, still not making direct contact with your skin. You were being shoved over the edge of an intense orgasm before you’d even been undressed. A tiny whimper was all the warning you gave before spilling over Katsuki’s tongue, the thin material of your panties doing nothing to hold back the copious amounts of come.

“Good, sweet girl,” Kirishima brushed the hair off your sweaty forehead. Katsuki whimpered into your throbbing core causing you to jerk involuntarily. He pulled your soaked underwear to the side, ripping it in the process. Your scolding was swallowed up by Kirishima’s hot tongue dancing against your parted lips.

“Don’t worry,” his gentle grip kept your chin turned toward his fiery gaze, “These won’t be needed for now.”

“Ei,” Katsuki whined and you could feel the thump thump thump of his tail thrashing against the bed, “C-can I please?” You noticed he had been dragging his leaking cock along the mattress and soaked through the linen trousers he wore.

“You’ve been greedy, hmm?” KIrishima wound his fingers into messy blonde tresses, “I haven’t even had a taste of our little plaything yet.”

Your stomach did flips as you watched Kirishima devour Katsuki’s lips. His tongue explored every inch of his lover’s mouth, savoring the taste of your release that coated the bottom half of Katsuki’s face.

Watching the two men get lost in each other’s touches reignited the fire in your core, your thighs clenching at the new feeling blossoming inside your body. They must have noticed your reaction, because with a side glance and a chuckle, Ejiro pulled you towards them without breaking the kiss he shared with Katsuki.

Without speaking, you seemed to know what was needed, your body moving on its own. You unfastened Eijiro’s trousers and gasped at just how massive he really was. You gulped before leaning down to gently kiss the angry, leaking head of his cock. You were rewarded with a sweet moan that Katsuki greedily swallowed up. You licked up and down, kissing every inch, getting drunk off the sweet sounds you pulled from the giant man.

Feeling left out, Katsuki quickly got your attention by grabbing your hand and stuffing it down his unfastened pants. You moaned around Eijiro’s member causing him to growl. His patience growing thin, he hauled you up to straddle his lap. His thick fingers dug into the meat of your ass and you felt a warm chest press against your back.

“Now,” the half-giant whispered into your ear, red locks falling around your neck, “Be our good pet and let us fill you up.” You whimpered, head rolling back onto Katsuki’s shoulder as a finger found your tender clit, pulling the hood back gently.

You were passed back and forth for what felt like hours. Katsuki mounting you from behind while you sucked Eijiro’s cock… Eijiro pressing you into the mattress, knees folded up by your ears… Katsuki between the two of you, Eijiro plowing into him and in turn making him fuck you twice as hard…

The three of you were utterly spent as you lay in the hot spring not far from your new home. You lay back on Kirishima’s large chest as Katsuki nuzzled into your soft cleavage. You took turns gently washing and praising each other. You’d never once felt this loved and cherished before.

As your hair was being braided by your crimson haired giant and your face peppered in kisses from your adoring lycanthrope lover… you thanked yourself for choosing to take the path less traveled.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha smut #bnha x reader #mha smut #jade writes smut #kirishima eijirou x reader #bakugo katsuki #kirishima smut #bakugo smut

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thrandilf · 3 years

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Game Comparisons: Fate Grand Order, Fire Emblem Heroes, Onmyoji (RPG)

I play these three mobile games rather regularly, and a lot of times in conversation I’ll wind up comparing them with people who only play one/none of these. I thought it would be nice to just make a post comparing their separate strengths/qol/gacha systems ect, for anyone curious about them.

Some of these things are apples to oranges, and of course a lot of it is just opinion. However, some things can be directly contrasted such as character accessibility (limited time units, seasonal units, crossover units that are permanently able to be summoned vs units that once their time is past they’re just gone, that kinda thing).

No game is ever always ranked first nor last, and I’d like to just provide info as someone who plays all of these for those who are curious and want an honest opinion. I want to do my best to be fair, and to reflect comments I’ve heard from fellow players as well.

Things discussed: story accessibility, past story accessibility, event accessibility, past event accessibility, pvp, character design, character accessibility, gameplay, user qol, friend support unit system, stamina systems, paid subscriptions, gacha rates, need for character merges, ease of getting gacha roll currency, story/writing quality, and closing thoughts. Some of these things may not apply, for example FGO has no pvp, so that would be unranked.

Rankings/Reasonings from Best to Worst:

Story Accessibility Ranking:

FEH // Onmyoji // FGO

Regardless of what you think of feh’s story, it comes in three modes and is accessible to anyone regardless of player level/experience. Easy/Hard are pretty easy for anyone new to somewhat new to clear, and even most Lunatic story chapter and paralogue maps don’t become too much trouble once you have some solid level 40 units, but in terms of pure accessibility to the story, you can get into it right away and just read through it all on easy.

Onmyoji story chapters require you to level up your player level to access them, but it’s paced well so it’s not an issue in my opinion to get a steady rate of access with regular gameplay. Current events are also available to everyone once they clear the tutorial/maybe hit a low level but events is another discussion.

FGO doesn’t level lock story but it does get progressively more and more challenging. It’s a strategy game, so you could argue about that being the point, but even players with high level top tier characters can really flounder in the Lostbelts, for example. If you wanted to only experience fgo for the story, there’s no easy mode except going to watch someone else’s walkthrough or digging up scripts, both of which would discourage players only there for the writing to keep playing/struggling.

This is long so more under the cut!

If you’d like to spread this around/share, please do RB/share!

Past Story Accessibility Ranking:

EDIT: All tied! I was mistaken about FGO

All of FEH’s story chapters and paralogues are available to be reread within the game at any time. Onmyoji lets you reread chapters via the tree in the courtyard and it does have access to character CGs in game too, though big character events is a different story and another point further down. FGO lets you redo nodes for loot but ALSO lets you reread story in Your Room. Thank you anon for that.

Event Accessibility Ranking:

Onmyoji // FGO Unranked: FEH. FEH has no big story events unless you count blips like Forging Bonds/Tempest Trials. Those are open to anyone and routinely has scripts posted on the wiki, for what it’s worth.

Onmyoji lets anyone, to my understanding, access big lore events when they’re at level 15 or something. These events are not always newbie friendly gameplay wise (hell, or even oldie friendly for some of the things like the bigass boss events, but those usually aren’t lore packed, or the story isn’t from being able to grind anyway), but anyone playing at the time can experience it. This might spoil a few things for people playing the main story. For example, SP units are alts of a regular unit with more story attached. Someone who was playing the main story and only knew regular Ibaraki Doji and Shuten Doji could wind up playing Lotus Crown and suddenly meet their SP versions and get a fastforwarded glimpse of where the characters are now. It’s not a big spoiler, but it’s there.

FGO story locks events, and they can story lock all the way up into the current Lostbelts. For anyone unsure of what a Lostbelt is, there’s the main story of FGO which has 7 big Singularity arcs, and then the second giant half of the ongoing game are the Lostbelts. It takes a long time for someone starting fresh to get through these things.

I’ll use the Case Files event to illustrate the pros and cons of this. Pros: an event doesn’t have to dance around something like a major character death if it’s story locked. The Case Files event also dealt a lot with past story chapters/events and the memories of those, the effect of which might’ve been diminished for a newer player. Cons: the bar of entry to get into this event was high, it was (IIRC) to clear LB2. If someone who was a /zero or CF fan wanted to play and got wind of this event 2-3 months before it dropped (FGO global is 2 years behind FGO JP, so our schedule is predictable), I think it would be nearly impossible to clear LB2 within that span of time due to fgo’s difficulty.

Past Event Accessibility Ranking:

FGO // Onmyoji Unranked: FEH, see above

Neither game has the ability to view pas events within the game. For data reasons, that might be wise. EDIT: You can in FGO, actually! I never found it before but bonus.

This is more about fandom archiving than the game itself. FGO’s huge fanbse has done a good job of preserving past events and there are multitudes of walkthroughs and I believe scripts around. Omyoji has this too, with wikis and posted yt walkthroughs, but only for things in the past couple of years. Western fanbase is small, so a lot of the older content is lost forever to us.

PVP Ranking:

Onmyoji and FEH are tied! Unranked: FGO, no pvp

Both Onmyoji and FEH have live and cpu controlled pvp. Summoner duels in FEH are newer than Duels in Onmyoji, but I think both do the job well, and Aether Raids/Realm Raids are about on par as well, although FEH’s aether raids are ranked and you do lose ranking for losing on defense, while on Onmyoji realm raids don’t affect the person who lost. Both have their meta and in FEH’s case, powercreep especially, but between the two I’d say it’s a draw.

Character Design (Please Don’t Throw Rocks at Me):

Onmyoji // FEH // FGO

First off: Onmyoji has a huge advantage. NetEase is a gaming giant and they have the budget for everyone to have 3D models and multiple skins. The other games can’t do that. I get it, but credit is due for a game where the main appeal is aesthetic. Aesthetic is where Onmyoji knocks it out of the park. Even your player avatar frame can be animated.

Beyond that, Onmyoji is also the most respectful, generally speaking. Female characters routinely wear clothes and have spines that do seem human, to be frank. Whether or not it’s a good thing, the devs listen to their (Asian servers) fanbase and will change designs if people are upset.

FGO and FEH both have, well... some things a lot of people find either poorly drawn in general design or distasteful to some degree. FGO gets more of the complaints.

Character Accessibility:

FEH // Onmyoji // FGO

Feh has limited time units but the seasonal/other limited banners always come back in some form. Feh also has a system on some banners to allow the player to “spark” after 40 summons, giving them a free pick of a featured 5 star unit.

Onmyoji and FGO both have characters, usually from events (in onmoyij, crossover events) that once they’re gone, they’re gone. In onmyoji, you have to summon them during events, and they may never come home. In FGO, you are given them for free if you work for them during events.

However, Onmyoji gets an accessibility bonus for the shard system. It’s incredibly difficult to get any past limited stuff from sharding, but it does help with the rest of the pool. You can collect shards from several different ways (events, demon parade, quest rewards, ect) so getting a stubborn SSR to come home is plausible even if the gacha hates you and your whole family. Getting a certain SSR shard can be a Massive pain, because you have to have one before you can request more from your friends/guild, but at least the possibility is there. Onmyoji also will guarantee a certain rate up character after so many summons but that’s after something like hundreds of summons, so not really worth mentioning.

Gameplay/QoL Please No Rocks:

Onmyoji // FEH // FGO

FGO is at the bottom for no auto system whatsoever and no Noble Phantasm (ult) skip. It’s a grindy game on top of that. I know, I know, it’s a battle card system but come on. There’s gotta be some way to make it more friendly to people’s time and battery lives. Even delegating x amount of AP to a node you’ve cleared and letting a timer run would satisfy me. The refusal to allow an NP skip doesn’t mean a deeper appreciation for some character, but wastes literal hours of player’s time if they grind events like lottos. The agency to determine your own player experience isn’t there.

FEH has an auto play system which you can’t use for everything but if you wanna mentally clock out for a bit you can. FEH’s auto start system is paywalled in FEH pass.

Onmyoji- again, you shouldn’t use auto all the time, but it has auto, auto start, and co op auto for resource/some event grinding. You can at any time switch to manual and no one has huge unskippable animations.

Friend Support System:

FGO // Onmyoji // FEH

FGO wins this hands down. Confetti, fireworks, cheering. You bring one friend’s unit from their posted support unit team to battle, and you can pick from your friends’ units and even strangers’ units from any class. Events will often have character or (basically) loadout bonuses and you can configure a team for others to borrow just for the event, so you assist normal and event gameplay with every class at the same time. If you don’t have the right god tier support caster or dps, boom. Almost a guarantee a friend or stranger does, and you can refresh to find more people’s stuff if needed.

Onmyoji and FEH allow borrowing of one set friend unit in some circumstances, but onmyoji also allows 2-3 person co-op, so you can get more access to their teams that way.

Stamina/AP:

FEH and Onmyoji are tied, // FGO

AP can be scarce for newer onmyoji players (and it’s been some years but feh too maybe) but once you’ve played long enough you have a bottomless swimming pool. Onmyoji is especially generous with AP during events, and FEH hands out stamina like candy often just for logging in. FGO can also hand out stamina fruit but it’s much easier to blast through and things like lotto or raid boss events can drain a lot of it fast. You can use SQ, the gacha currency in FGO to get more AP, but due to how rare it is, that would be getting close to pay to win play style. Some people do that, from what I hear.

Paid Subscriptions:

Onmyoji // FEH Unranked: FGO has none, might constitute as the Winner here then

Onmyoji talisman pass is $5, and with it you can get, as you play that month, extra summons, an exclusive skin, an extra skill daruma, and more little rewards with every level. It’s $4 if you maxed out the previous month

FEH pass is $10 and gives you 10 orbs (2 rolls), a respendent unit, access to resplendent units to buy ($5 each for a skin), some extra rewards (onmyoji gives out more by comparison) and auto start which... is nice to have, but sad that it’s behind a paywall. Apparently multi month in a row subscribers get more goods, but it’s still $10.

Gacha:

FEH // Onmyoji // FGO

It’s a lot easier to get 5 star units in general in feh, but SSRs aren’t worth As Much as in Onmyoji or FGO. FEH has a pity rate. Banners start at 3 or 4% for 5 star focus, and some might be 6 or 8% for special banners and there’s a pity system that increases it, though gacha can still be cruel. Onmyoji��s rates are much lower and with no pity system. During summon events your chances of getting an SSR/SP are boosted from 1% to about 3%. In FGO, it’s always like a .7% drop at most for an SSR unit. No pity either. It’s possible to go 100-200 summons in Onmyoji and get no SSR. Same with FGO. That would be incredibly unlikely in FEH, though.

FEH units need to be 5 star usually for best stats, and you can upgrade lower rarities, yay! Onmyoji players don’t need SSRs, and neither do FGOs generally speaking.

This ranking is also about how I’d rank ease of getting gacha currency. The free stuff you can get daily or through story is limited across the board of course, but FGO seems the stingiest. Yes, there are log in bonuses and holdiays ect that are really big, but you can complete weekly master missions to get a whopping 1 roll. Getting story quartz takes longer than orbs in FEH.

Need for Character Merges:

Onmyoji // FGO // FEH

How bad do you need duplicates? For Onmyoji, skill daruma are a rare but accessible resource to fully skill up your shiki. It just takes patience. You get skill ups with merges so R/SR shiki get skills that way, while daruma feed the SSRs/SPs. Takes awhile, but you’d be fine with only one of a unit.

FGO needs merges to max out an NP. No other way to do it. Granted, most SSR units don’t need an NP maxed out.

FEH units get stat increases with merges, so the advantage is clear as day to merge them up to level 40+10 from merges. Might be easier to do in FEH than the others regarding gacha rates (and FEH’s grail unit shop) but still. Painful depending on how rare the unit in the pool is. Some units are SSR only, so good luck.

Story Writing, I am Once Again Shielding Myself From Rocks:

Onmyoji // FGO // FEH

Onmyoji is not piggybacking off of a fandom, first of all. It’s its own thing. That’s an advantage for not having outside material to incorporate. Onmyoji reads like a visual novel and drops lore events that have varied gameplay and are all pretty immersive. It handles its characters well and the lore/character events in particular bring out the best in it. Onmyoji is kind of apples to oranges here because the other two are spinoffs, this is a main game.

FGO. Yeah, it’s above FEH. FGO gets a lot of complaints, including from me. That’s a separate essay. However, it’s got a ton of content. At first it wasn’t as immersive, but as time went on they made it more and more like a true VN and added in more depth and narration, so it isn’t just script. Whether it succeeds with flying colors or fails, it sure tries. The characters from each Fate/ series and the OCs are all involved and relevant in their story arcs, all the way through. There’s so much writing for every event and story arc that you can see why people would play it for story, even if a few things are, ehhh, notoriously bad.

FEH’s potential is only really seen in forging bonds/I guess the paralogue blips. FEH updates the main story with very short chapters/crumbs every so many weeks, and while it does it to coincide with new units, it uses the new units as enemies on a map with a couple lines, irrelevant to the story. The story focuses on FEH’s OCs.

This isn’t about the OCs per se, but the writing and technical execution is lazy compared to a lot of other games. There’s no written narration or much if any sprite expression variation. It’s like a dry gba game script. The update schedule makes it hard for me personally to stay interested even if a new OC looks cool. They know their fanbase only has FEH, and maybe extra effort isn’t needed to keep making money.

FEH could’ve done what FE Warriors did and gone full in for the crossover content. FGO at least features x cast for x arc and deepens those characterizations and gives content for fan beloved characters. Warriors did a pretty good job with crossover as well and mixing the games together.

And FEH does do this for forging bonds! But that’s not the main story. Opinion, but FEH doesn’t live up to it’s potential. It has so much potential.

We could have had books that focus on, for example, the Dawn Brigade from Radiant Dawn teaming up with the 7th Platoon from New Mystery of the Emblem, or any number of crossover character groups being relevant and having real story writing poured into them. The OCs could still be there, but, you know. Most people play FEH because they’re fans of the fire emblem games or want to know more about fire emblem games they haven’t played. It would take a dedicated team of writers who are experts in fe games to do this, and that’s why to me, a major focus on OCs is a cop out, regardless of what I may think of the OCs.

Anyway, that’s it! I actively play all three of these and y’all can friend me if you like. I hope this was informative/helpful for anyone wanting some info on them.

My accounts:

Onmyoji: Mechromancer

FGO Code: 576,753,309

FEH Code: 9361632466

#fate grand order #fire emblem heroes #onmyoji #game review #fgo #fire emblem

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kayr0ss · 3 years

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Hands that Remember [AO3 Link]

[Horizon Zero Dawn, Elisabet Sobeck Lives, Found Family, Mother-Daughter Feelings, GAIA is recovering, Ereloy]

Summary: Aloy saw the recordings, felt their grief over the death of their culture - the loss of their identity. Ted Faro had blown away the light meant to guide humanity through darkness - but she was willing to risk it all to take it back. To bring APOLLO back. It wasn't the first time that the world asked her for a miracle, but it bargained with a miracle of its own: This time - she didn't have to do it alone.

[Wherein Elisabet Sobeck returns, GAIA is recovering, Erend is done waiting around, and Aloy discovers a family she's never had before to help lift the weight of the world off her shoulders.]

---

Chapter 1: Resurfacing

It was endless.

The dust and sand reminded him of the canyons north of Meridian—but it seemed harsher. Endless, expansive. Flat. He’d lost sight of All-Mother Mountain days ago and soon even the icy northern peaks of the Cut had fallen behind the horizon. All that was around him were rocks and packed earth.

Clouds of dust rose from under his footsteps, caught in a wind swooping over from further west. He wondered if they would reach the end of the world before the end of this desert. Did it just… stop? Was there an edge where everything ceased to be, a void down below ready to consume anything unfortunate enough to travel just a bit too far?

He grunted at his thoughts. Way too poetic. Been hanging around too many Carja these days—and not enough ale to drown out all the needless chatter.

What was Aloy doing out here anyway?

Still, he pressed on with gritted teeth, pulling up the fabric of his scarf above his nose. There was shelter up ahead. The faint purple glow he was following led him straight down its path: a ruin of the Old Ones full of rusting metal and crumbling rock. There were a few trees in the vicinity, tall and shooting straight up from the ground as though they were arrows.

“Must’ve taken shelter here,” he grumbled to himself.

It was a short trek to reach the threshold of the ruins. There was an archway holding a dilapidated sign, looking as if a strong kick to the base would be enough to knock it over. For a minute he entertained the thought, but what for?

A pile of metal junk lies near the perimeter of the building—one of those rectangular containers, similar to those dumped by the Old Ones in the scrapyard near Free Heap. The building itself was covered in vines and… flowers? That’s when he noticed the grass by his feet. It was lush and green, much like in the Embrace, and where plant life thrives it means—

“Water.”

He picked up his pace, falling into a jog. The journey had taken a toll on him. He was glad to have kept some empty water skins on hand—a fresh refill and his store of dried meats would be more than enough to last him the walk back. It was a small comfort against the mounting restlessness that clawed at the back of his mind, the feeling that he was never going to catch up with her at the rate he was going. He wondered if he’d tracked Aloy down this far west only to have her meet him on the road—already on the way back.

At least he hoped she was. Coming back, that is. He shook his head. Not the best time to think about that.

Further inspection revealed no machines in sight. Odd. Did Aloy clear the way already? Or was there something else, something that kept them away? The thought was unnerving, but he kept his hammer stowed away at his back. Couldn’t pick up any threats, anyway. No mines either, he nodded to himself. Stalkers could be ruled out.

He looked up towards the building. It was worn down, only the haunting twisted metal of its skeleton left standing, rubble littered at the base. “Probably fed a whole thunderjaw into a forge to build this one.” He chortled. “Great. Now I’m talking to myself. Right. Water.”

He followed the way to a patch where the growth was thicker. “Huh.” He paused, frowning. There were purple flowers arranged in a triangle too perfect to be natural. Some sort of stone seating structure was in the center and—

“Fire and spit!” he sputtered out, war-hammer pulled at the ready while he awkwardly regained his footing after nearly tripping. For some reason, even in the heat of battle he decided he didn’t want to step on the violet blooms that seemed so dainty and beautiful.

Was that… a person?

His frown deepened, brows knitting together as he looked over some sort of machine suit. It reminded him of the material Aloy had crafted over standard Nora leathers. He gently prodded at the suit with the end of his hammer’s grip. No movement. The overgrowth consuming it was an indication that it’d been sitting there for, well, a while.

He stepped in a little closer, laying a hand along the suit’s shoulder to dust it away. Cold. He recoiled.

Cold as death.

For a second or two he considered scavenging the strange machine-suit for parts, but quickly dismissed the thought when he realized there might be someone… inside. He stepped back, putting down his hammer. Oseram were delvers, not grave robbers.

I should probably go. He rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling intrusive and out of place, but one last look over the suit made him shake his head. Was this their home? He tried to imagine what the ruins might have looked before. Like Meridian, perhaps?

The person looked peaceful. Content. But it looked like a lonely way to go.

“You, uh…” he set a heavy gloved hand on the suit’s shoulder. “Have a good rest.”

The stillness didn’t last for very long. As he lifted his hand a cloud of cold, frigid gas began to leak from the small slits along the suit’s shoulders and joints.

The focus Aloy gifted him began to buzz, in sync with the deep onset of frantic panic at the pit of his stomach. By the forge did he break something? He stumbled backwards, hand coming up to tap his focus. Purple lights sprung to life—a spattering of odd blinking symbols and words that were enough to disorient him. Circles of light hovered highlighted portions of the suit, bringing up numbers and flashing words—counting down with urgency.

[WARNING: Ultraweave Terrestrial Suit Atmospheric Seal Compromised]

"Seal?" What was that supposed to mean? He frowned. Too sober for this.

A disembodied voice buzzed into his ear—eerie and inhuman, like how the Shadow Carja’s god HADES sounded, except not quite as threatening. A woman’s voice.

[Ultraweave Terrestrial Suit Oxygen Supply—Depleted. Ultraweave Terrestrial Suit Potable Liquid Tank—Depleted]

There was a chilling pause.

[External Personnel Detected. Assessment: User of FAS Standard-Issue FOCUS Unit Number ZERO-ONE-ONE-THREE - Assistance Required. Please attend to personnel within UTS Unit Zero-Alpha-Psi.]

“What am I—?!” He looked around in a panic, feeling out of his element. Was it talking to him? This was the sort of thing Aloy was good at! “What am I supposed to do?!”

[Please attend to personnel within UTS Unit Zero-Alpha-Psi.]

“You already said that.” He grumbled back, frustrated. Does that mean this thing—this…Old One—was still alive? Upon closer inspection he could see it: frost crawling out of the vents. Cold. Still as cold as death.

He couldn’t believe it. Frozen in time.

[Stand-by for assisted reanimation.]

He reached out towards the blinking lights across the rectangular badge on the suit’s odd chest plate. It responded to his touch with purple lights blinking into living words floating across his fingertips. He gasped.

He recognized that name.

[Disengaging Cryostasis Protocol. Stand-by for assisted reanimation. Projection: ninety-three minutes to thermal homeostasis.]

“Captain, what happened?”

Voices. Too far away. Or were they nearby? Damn. She couldn’t tell. Couldn’t even open her eyes. It was cold. So fucking cold—colder than Nevada had any right to be.

“Get blankets! Anything! Beladga, got any shirts you can spare?”

Why was everyone in a panic? Had she fallen asleep in the control center? Huh. She didn’t recall Travis sounding nearly as gruff as that.

Travis? The others—

She… she had a job to do. A mission. What was it? Everything felt distant—disconnected. She vaguely realized she that she was shivering but why? She tried to call out but realized that she was physically unable to speak, her throat feeling dry as sandpaper. Coughing erratically, she noticed that she was partially intubated with a sort of breathing apparatus.

[Seventeen minutes to thermal homeostasis. Please prepare for disengagement of auxiliary respirator.]

An automated voice was buzzing into her ear through her focus. She could feel her senses turning, along with the slight mobility of her limbs. It seems she was being carried—or rather, being laid down onto something soft. There were footsteps. Movements. The voices were hushed, secretive and confused. There was a soft yellow light through the ambiguous blur of color that swam around her vision.

[Auxiliary respirator disengaging.]

The machinery abruptly detached the mask from her nose and mouth. The sudden brightness made her recoil, her face feeling exposed. She fell into a fit of violent coughing—as if she had forgotten how to breathe. It was painful. God, it fucking sucked.

“Take it easy now,” said the voice from earlier. It was a man. He—He was speaking with her through his own voice. How is that possible? No one could survive out here without a suit. The atmosphere was too—

A sudden wave of nausea overcame her.

Memories of her last excursion came flooding back: the bunker door failing to seal. Her last transmission to the Alphas. Project Zero Dawn. GAIA—the Swarm!

Coming home.

Dying.

I’m supposed to be dead.

“I—” she rasped out, voice hoarse and jagged. Panicked.

“Whoa there,” there was a steady hand on her shoulder, helping her turn to her side. She felt something press against her mouth almost forcefully. “Drink this.”

“We got to get her out of that suit, captain.” There was another voice, female this time.

“I think—” the captain, she assumed, replied “—I think we need to wait a few more minutes. The device is telling me that—”

Everything was fading into black again.

“—else to go follow her trail, or just hope she comes back. She has to… she needsto see this. I just… Oh. She’s awake, I think.”

There was some shuffling. Once again, she was offered water. It was sweet this time. Did they mix in sugar? She tried to ask but she was so, so tired and…

Sobeck Journal, 1-27-66

I wasn’t going to see any of it anyway.

Best I can do is hope, I guess. The landscape is barren now – I’m kind of glad the other Alphas don’t have to see it this close up. Stings. I’m half-expecting to hear Patrick patch me in via holo, asking why I haven’t dragged my feet to the conference hall for the scheduled status briefing. He’ll take good care of the younger kids, him and Charles both. ZD and the Swarm seem so small and faraway now that I’m walking away from it all. Quite literally. Hauled my ass all the way to Nevada.

Glad mom isn’t around to see the ranch like this. When I close my eyes I can almost imagine it: the tall pine trees, the grass. Maybe I’ll get to see things the way they were before on the other side… wherever that might be.

I’m tired.

Time to rest.

She woke up with a jolt.

“Hey.

He was still there, sitting on the ground across from her and looking just as confused as she was. Her vision was clearer now—and every detail she managed to catalogue drove a spike of panic and confusion deeper into the hollow of her chest. They were in a leather tent lit by a small gasoline lamp in the corner. They seemed to be in the outskirts of an encampment, faraway enough to not be disturbed.

“I’m guessing this is freaking you out a little.” He scratched at the back of his head, unable to meet her eyes. He pointed to a waterskin laid down beside her bedroll. “Maybe get some more water in before you speak? I’ve got some dried meats too. I’m guessing you haven’t eaten in… a while.”

On the matter of guesses, she had a vague idea what might be going on. It was equal parts terrifying and exciting and a hundred percent something she did notask for.

She had an unfortunately stellar track record for hypothesizing, though. Chances of her guess being wrong were dreadfully slim. The cold. The scenery. Even the clinical tone and instructions of her Ultraweave Suit’s reanimation module—a system she helped develop herself, back when the prospect of sleeping through the disaster was considered an option.

It wasn’t. Not consistent enough to use en masse—not enough foresight to secure species continuity.

She took a drink of water, willing to steel her nerves before panic caught up with her executive faculties. She needed to orient herself with wherever it was she woke up in. Hell, forget where, the real question is—

“When… is it?”

He blinked. “Uh, today?”

“What year is it?”

The man’s expression softened—a look that didn’t quite fit with the rest of his character. He was big. Towering—even while seated on the floor—with broad shoulders and a figure strong enough to walk around with enough steel to build a car door, apparently. “You sound so much like her.”

“I don’t follow.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming along. She needed to eat.

“Sorry I—” he scratched at his beard. “It’s the reign of the 14th Sun-King, Avad the Liberator.”

Kings? Again?

“I’m Erend, captain of the King’s vanguard.”

He paused.

“You’re Aloy’s mother, aren’t you?”

fin

A/N: I'd like to acknowledge Tototops for doing an amazing job beta-reading this! It's always a pleasure, and my writing is always pushed to grow better with every suggestion and correction you help me with. x) And to my friends Sleepy, @theguardiandragon1, @saltypyrotato, @tanuki-pyon and Fridge for listening to my HZD manic fever ramblings and helping me make sense of the plot I had in mind.

Just finished the game about two weeks ago and read a bunch of fanfic. I consumed Writerly's Second Dawn (which is absolutely amazing!!!!), which is my foremost inspiration for even attempting to write fanfic of this wonderful franchise. I base a lot of my characterizations and format of story telling in this fic from their work, and hope to do so in a way which is still true to the unique plot I've set for it. I am very excited to be trying something new and to learn and get better along the way. Hope you all enjoy. :)

#Horizon Zero Dawn #HZD #Ereloy #Aloy #resident evil #HZD GAIA #Fanfic #Found Family #Elisabet is Mom #Elisabet Sobeck #Erend #Erend Vanguardsman #Adventure #Erend x Aloy

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esdithequeen · 3 years

Text

Basics of Thievery

Read on AO3

Rijha gets mugged, but like, not really

Rijha revelled in the warmth of sunlight as it streamed down through the trees, the autumnal foliage of the Rift casting the road in a kaleidoscope of red and gold. Clear skies seemed to be a rare commodity in Skyrim, which made her dread the upcoming journey to Solitude for Delphine’s little plan; she had yet to travel so far north.

Below her Alfsigr nickered and pulled at the reins, prompting Rijha to run a hand up under the mare’s mane and found it damp with sweat, “Time for a break then, serush?” It certainly would hurt, they were still a few hours from Ivarstead afterall. They veered off the road towards the river. Alfsigr was quick to take a long drink, while Rijha used the remaining contents of her waterskin to wash off the sweat. They could probably do with getting her fur clipped, as even though winter was far behind them it was still thick enough for Rijha to run her fingers through. Perhaps someone in Ivarstead would be able to do it while she was up at High Hrothgar.

When she was certain that Alfsigr was cooled off, Rijha crouched beside the river to refill the waterskin, and took a swig. The sound of leaves under foot caught her ear, but she paid no mind to it. The ringing of metal filled the air.

There was a blade at the back of her neck.

“Hand over your valuables.”

Slowly, Rijha turned to her assailant. He was a scrappy little thing, bowlegged and knuckles white around a cheap iron dagger. She pushed the blade away from her face with careful hands, and tilted her head to get a better look under his hood, “What are you doing?”

“Fuck do you mean? I’m robbing you.”

Rijha gave him a scrutinising look, “With that stance?” The thief squirmed under her gaze. He seemed like he was about to back down, but then puffed his chest out and tried again.

“If you don't hand over all your stuff right now I’ll— I’ll gut you like a fish.”

“I’d like to see you try.” He lunged for her and she grabbed his wrist, disarming and knocking him to the ground in one swift movement. She stood above the thief, twirling the dagger that was now in her hands, “Now, see, your first problem is that someone of your size can’t just use brute force, it’s not our way and, well, it just doesn't work, you know? Especially up here where every other person is built like a stone fortress. Secondly, you’re way too stiff.” Rijha grabbed the boy by his arm and pulled him up onto his feet, “Right, point your feet forward, shoulders width apart, bend your knees a little and bring yourself up onto your toes. That’s it. Do you feel more mobile now?”

“I… guess so?”

“Good. Here,” she offered back his knife, “Relax your grip a little, as long as you hold it correctly you won’t drop it. Now the only time you should be facing someone with a knife is for self defence, so bring your arms up, your free hand by your face so you can guard if need be. Getting stabbed in the arm is better than getting stabbed in the eye, yes?”

“Yeah.” Rijha stepped back and let him make a few practice swings. The improvement was immediate.

“Much better! You’re more balanced, you can move around easily, all it takes is correcting your stance. But remember, this is just self defence, if you want to rob people you need to use less knife and more brain.”

The thief straightened his back, “Are you saying I’m dumb?”

“I’m saying my horse was right there, you probably could have taken my saddlebags without me noticing.” He looked back at where Alfsigr was grazing by the river.

“Oh.”

“The key is being subtle. Ditch the hood and the armour, if you just look like a passerby, another nameless face in the crowd, no one will suspect you. Cut their purses from their belts as you walk past or get a friend to act as a distraction while you pick a few pockets. Truth is, most people won’t notice you, but what they will notice is some shifty hooded person skulking around, and that’s what's going to get you caught.” Rijha returned to Alfsigr’s side, pulled out a small bag of coins and chucked it his way, “Here, I’ll give a head start.”

He looked down at the bag as he caught it, before looking up at her in confusion, “Who are you?”

Pulling herself up into the saddle, Rijha put on her most innocent voice, “Me? Oh, I’m just some middle-aged washed up adventurer making the rounds, no one special. Shadows hide you, friend.” With that, she pushed Alfsigr forward, continuing on towards Ivarstead.

The Ragged Flagon was quiet, as it often was these days. No one had the money to buy drinks, and Vekel was getting stingy about not giving anything out on the house. Brynjolf sighed into his ale as he looked over the guild finances. Nothing but losses. The door to the cistern opened, and Delvin nudged his shoulder.

“Look who’s finally back.”

Brynjolf turned his head to see the new footpad, exhaustion written all over his face, “Well, I’ll be, we weren’t sure you’d show up again, lad. Find anything decent?”

“Yeah, sure, I guess you could say that.” He dropped his pack onto the table, and Delvin nearly choked on his drink when he peeked inside. Brynjolf abandoned his paperwork to help clear out the bag. It was mostly coin, and a few trinkets, but it was more than anyone else had brought in all month. Delvin wasted no time in counting it all out, while the footpad slumped down in a chair, face hidden in his hands.

“You alright, lad?”

He let out a long sigh, “I just… had the weirdest experience of my entire life.” The two older thieves shared a look. This should be interesting.

“Go on then, lad. Tell us all about it.”

#the elder scrolls #elder scrolls #dragonborn #skyrim #skyrim oc #khajiit #brynjolf #delvin mallory #thieves guild #writing #rijha-daro #do’rirri

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jordanianroyals · 4 years

Photo

Queen Noor Interview with Prestige issue 34, March 1996

Interviewed in Amman by CHRISTIANE Obeid | © Prestige / Bassam Lahoud

She captivates you with the strength of her charisma. Fascinates you by the scale of her projects. Meeting with Her Majesty in Jerash.

Amman Airport. Literally a welcoming committee, two people waiting, sent by the Royal Palace of Ma’wa, a third one by the Lebanese Embassy in Jordan. A first impression of Jordan: courtesy, discretion. Outside, the lights of a city that does not sleep. Alive. With white stone houses, architectural treasures. No skyscrapers but a latent desire for immensity. The next day, the same person, taciturn and kind, leads us to our first stop: Iraq Al Amir. An archaeological reconstructed village, restored, half an hour from Amman but already deeply immersed in tradition.

We have not yet met the Queen, but her work is marked everywhere. (Source)

Inside each house, a beehive of activity and a delicious freshness. Our mentor: Awni Quandour graduate of States and director of the center. Here, we weave with happiness, the millenary production of parchment paper is recovered…

Ramadan does not slow the activity of nawls under the impetus of the gay village girls. The presence of computers seems incongruous at first, but the tradition and modernity go together well. Our meeting with Jordan’s heritage extends to Jordan Design and Trade Center (JDTC). «Our goal is to continue to create, create every day, something different.» Statement of the director Claude Zumot, also a graduate in management from the States. And the designers of the Centre do not lack ideas. Originality of modern notes intended to complement the heritage of ancestors. Mosaic patterns on multiple works, delicately aesthetic convolutions of a glass, traced vows on Salsal ceramics. We learn, with difficulty, to recognize the different bsat and call them by name because they have a name like any piece of art. From the peasants of Iraq Al Amir to Husseiniyé Bedouins, Jordan awakes to crafts, culture. Who gave the impetus? A queen so dedicated to her work that she offered us, instead of a traditional interview, to accompany her to Jerash. Historic city that has a large craft center. Departure from the Royal Palace of Ma ‘awa, on the hill of Nuzha.

At Jerash, in groups in front and inside of the Town Hall, the crowd waiting for their queen, their benefactress. It is there, fascinated, that we understand the scale of the project, the strength of her charisma, the extent of her love for Jordan, her commitment to the people that came to pay tribute to her.

Majesty, you are an architect; what is the contribution of your major in the successful implementation of your projects? I chose a major in Architecture and Urban Planning at the University of Princeton because it included several disciplines that were later a great asset to my work in Jordan. I discovered that in order to build for an individual or a community, we should understand their physical, social and spiritual needs and try to find solutions to those needs. In a sense, you can say that my major at the university helped me to become a «social architect».

«The woman can become a real economical force in her own community».

What distinguishes the Jordanian crafts from other countries? Jordanian designs reflect the richness of our history and are inspired by many ancient and contemporary cultures that flourished in Jordan. For example, the Nabataeans were famous for their fine ceramics they exported across the East. We produce Nabataean pottery style craft at the center of Salt that can be sold to tourists today.

On the other hand, the Bedouin style is very special because it produces «smooth-faced» because dense carpet; their texture is different from other styles. Our designers have also introduced for carpets and ceramic patterns inspired from mosaics. Embroidery items are typically Jordanian, eg Ma’ani point that had almost disappeared until the day the JDTC incorporated it again in its products. Another practice been forgotten and that we have revived the wheat wicker baskets woven by hand. Better, we established at Mukhaibeh a profitable project for the work of wicker wheat, palm leaves and banana …. On the other hand, the foundation provided women with new looms and spinning wheels to increase productivity. We have imposed a strict quality control from raw material to final product.

What are the main lines of craft projects? I would mainly say weaving and embroidery and ceramics, gems and paper.

Is there a contribution of the younger generation of the royal family to the revival of heritage? Several young members of the family support national programs for the preservation and promotion of the Jordanian heritage especially in the Jerash festival for art and culture and the National Music conservatory and projects for the Environment.

Majesty, what is the contribution of craft centers for the protection of historical monuments? Over the past decade, I have encouraged the development of these highly skilled centers in Jordan historic towns of archaeological sites to promote handicrafts and integrate the socio-economic development to tourism. In Iraq Al Amir you visited yesterday, a site dating from BC 2nd century, the Noor Al Hussein Foundation has renovated two farms and began the restoration of ten others. She plans to turn these farms in a craft village that preserve the cultural heritage of the region and would be linked to Hellenistic palace, which will encourage tourism and increase the economic benefit of the community. The foundation aims primarily to improve the quality of life of rural and urban poor communities through Jordan establishing intensive programs in the context of health, education, heritage, environment, volunteering and community involvement. I also encouraged the restoration of historic villages nearby archaeological sites such as Taybat Zaman, ten minutes from Petra. The Foundation and the Ministry of Tourism are working together for the upgrading of craft shops and tourist information centers.

As part of the craft revival, how do you assess environmental issues and what are your achievements in this area? I already mentioned the Mukhaibeh braiding project that symbolizes the effort deployed by the Foundation for integrating environmental issues into development projects. Before the Foundation initiated the project, the farmers there cut down and uprooted their palms, exploring other cultures. We have created a demand and as a result, farmers planted more palm trees! On the other hand, the JDTC working on water recycling project to reuse the water in the wool processing centers and dyeing south of Jordan. The JDTC also initiated profitable projects to the Dana Nature Reserve, in an abandoned village in the south. The historic stone houses have been restored and activities implemented. Currently the JDTC sells jewelry made in Dana, from semi-precious stones in the region.

Have most of the artistic and cultural projects been realized? Has the Foundation Noor AL Hussein realized its initial aspirations? Yes, the cultural activity of the Foundation is in full swing. Just after my marriage, I started with the invaluable help of Jordanian volunteers, the first Jerash Festival, today internationally recognized as a crossroads exchanges which contributed to the rebirth and revitalization of the cultural and artistic heritage. I also began during the early years of my marriage the Arab Children’s Congress, which brings together children from all parts of the Arab world in a climate of understanding, tolerance and solidarity. The National Conservatory of Music “founded in 1986, is the only one to have a children orchestra. Its annual program includes concerts, workshops and conferences as well as recitals that feature local and international musicians. Development project of the National Handicrafts, the JDTC and training center in Salt are three programs of the Noor Al Hussein Foundation. They were able to stimulate the revival of the craft heritage. Another project affiliated with the Foundation: the first Museum of Science for children, which helps them understand the ecological and scientific cycles of life. Children can touch and handle the exhibits to learn more on the development of Man through the ages, the natural history, geography, science, the environment, space and cultures in the world. We have also set up a museum of science, mobile, for children in rural areas. It focuses on health and hygiene, Science and Environmental Protection and the History of Jordan.

Your Majesty was there a few months ago at an international conference in Paris. How does the Foundation works as an intermediary between international and Jordanian institutions? We are associated with many UN and other organizations in the fields of education, the development of women and the community, the health, well-being of children, culture and heritage. The Foundation works with 30 different national and international non-governmental organizations to help them develop their plans, assist in attracting international funds and put their products on the market, especially abroad. Any foreign funding received by the Foundation is paid to the organization to which this fund is for.

At international carpet competition, a Jordanian rug Hweitat won first prize

Does the JDTC take part in major international exhibitions? Yes, the JDTC has exhibited its products in Europe, Paris and Frankfurt, and exposes once a year in Atlanta where one Hweitat rug has won the first prize at the International rug Competition. And twice a year in High Point, North Carolina, the largest furniture and decoration market of the United States.

Will handicraft be able one day to become a self-sufficient industry that will promote Jordanian art in the world? Craft centers are already self-sufficient. In addition, through its international exhibitions and marketing, JDTC has already introduced the Jordanian crafts in the world. The JDTC is primarily a national design and trade center that is not charged solely to promote the foundation products but also the works of various craft projects throughout the country.

Who oversees these centers? What is the common denominator? Is there not a danger of competition between different centers? Jordan is fortunate to have a wide variety of public and private craft centers with which JDTC works closely, either from a training perspective and product development or local or international marketing. The JDTC deploys every effort to reserve the rights to create products and designs to protect artisans. As for the craft centers of the Foundation, all of their directors are men or women from the same region, that the JDTC has recruited and trained to manage these centers. Those tend to specialize in different product lines at a time when the JDTC is creating «model centers».

To be engaged, should women initially have some skill? How the proposed development of the woman makes her a decision-maker? If a woman already has skills, it is more an asset but it is not a prerequisite for recruitment. The most important quality is the commitment, motivation. In addition, JDTC provides the necessary training, technical or managerial, and in that sense, the approach of the Foundation differs from the traditional and often ineffective approach, which merely provides material assistance to women.

The introduction of cost-effective programs, geared toward local and international markets, allows women to become a real economic force in the community. Her status and influence increase as well as the overall quality of life of the community, because a woman will often communicate her knowledge to her family. The training of women is therefore the fastest way to achieve positive change in development.

How are workers paid? Most artisans are paid according to the piece they realized, weavers are paid by meter and embroiderers per piece. As for center directors and some workers, they receive a monthly salary.

Which project of JDTC won the most of success? The projects of Nurha and Rimoun employing between 150 and 200 people are probably the most successful because both are completely independent. The JDTC initiated projects from scratch, providing all the training.

At present, the centers are self-managed and operated. Nurha, an embroidery center, has three other centers under its supervision. As the center of Rùnoun, it was established by the JDTC to help these women to acquire the skills and improve their standard of living while revitalizing the Jordanian crafts. The JDTC has also introduced an innovation: a 2 meters long loom which produces carpets covering a room previously almost non-existent in the Jordanian market.

How many people work at JDTC? Since its founding in 1990, 3,000 women and their families have benefited.

Do you have a special program for young people even not gifted in rural areas? Is university free of charge in Jordan? University is not free in Jordan, but the school is free up to college. The project that is particularly dear to me is the Jubilee School, high school for scholars from all parts of the country, particularly disadvantaged. It is dedicated to the development of intellectual potential of Jordanian students by providing a unique study method and curriculum based on their own needs, abilities and experiences. This school, in collaboration with private and public institutions, sponsors several courses and workshops for teachers and students throughout the country. Another project I have already mentioned is that of Salt which offers free training for three years in weaving, pottery and ceramics production, silk weaving, decoration and refresher courses for trainers. On the other hand, the SOS homes for boys and girls offer Vocation courses for children and, in collaboration with the SOS villages in Amman and Aqaba, creating a warm family atmosphere for orphans and abandoned children.

«My studies at Princeton University helped me to become a social architect»

Regarding the educational projects for children in rural areas, in addition to the mobile museum that I have already mentioned, the Foundation works closely in partnership with local authorities and private voluntary groups to establish clubs for children across Jordan. They meet the recreational, cultural, artistic needs of the younger. The Foundation also supports the creation of child care centers and nursery in the villages where these «quality of life» projects are implemented.

Majesty, your dream is the children’s hospital. What steps have been taken for its realization? The National Hospital for Children is a project that the people of Jordan have long dreamed of. Once completed, we hope that this hospital will be the first of the Kingdom to provide for tertiary medical care, secondary and some primary care for children aged 0 to 16 years. This establishment will be accessible to all economic classes of the population. The hospital will not only be a pediatric center but also an educational center for pediatric, surgical, dental hygiene and combined scientific disciplines. It will also include a center for the evaluation of child development and treatment of cerebral palsy and also present an extensive program guide for the family. The Institute for Health and Child Development is the first and only local specialized in assessing and monitoring the growth and development of the child. It will be affiliated with the hospital and serve the local community.

Majesty, you like to photograph. Have you organized an exhibition of your work? Unfortunately not, but this is a project that deserves reflection!

#Queen Noor #interview

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duker42 · 5 years

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Levi and his s/o get into a bad fight right before an expedition, saying hurtful things like I wish I never met you or things like that. During the expedition Levi got slammed into a tree and back home he was stuck in the infirmary for a while. When he woke up, he had amnesia and didnt remember anything. Reader tried to jog back his memories but she was like a stranger to him. It hurt her a lot being in the same room as him and leaving on such a bad note before the expedition. She decided-

💜Losing Him💜

The words they said to each other before leaving rang in her head as she watched the wagon as it raced back towards the wall. The slamming door as she heard him shout that he was done echoed in her mind.

They were always tense before an expedition. But this time it had boiled over, turned on themselves as they both worried about the outcome. She hadn’t meant to say she wished she never met him, saw the hurt flash in his eyes before he shuttered them. His voice had taken on a scathing tone, reserved for those he loathed.

She had spent that night somewhere else, not coming back to their rooms. He had ignored her that morning, preparing his squad and his horse without sparing her a glance. He hadn’t even looked at her as the gates opened and they took off out into the world that belonged to the Titans.

The expedition had gone sideways, like it always did. But this time, their strongest soldier, Captain Levi had been thrown against a tree and was currently unconscious in that wagon. His squad had saved him, Y/N’s eyes widening in terror as she saw his limp form being dragged back to the medical wagons by Eld and Gunther.

She had stayed next to wagon the entire way back, guarding her lover as he looked so peaceful, like he was sleeping. But she knew better. Levi didn’t sleep often, and he never looked that relaxed.

They made it back to the walls, the Captain transported to the infirmary until he woke up and could be examined.

~~~~~

He looked at her blankly. She felt her heart fall to the floor. He had asked her name, like they hadn’t lived together for the last two years. Like he hadn’t known her since he had been brought up from the Underground.

Y/N had smiled sadly, and told him her name. Tried to remind him who she was to him. He had scoffed and said that he would remember being in a relationship. That was the day her heart had completely shattered.

She tried, By the Walls did she try to jog his memory. Nothing had worked. Bringing him his favorite tea had just been acknowledged with a nod. Trying to brush his hair back from his eyes had almost gotten her wrist broken. He didn’t like being touched, the same way he was before they had started. It was like the last years had been wiped away, his life above ground completely foreign to him.

She couldn’t be in the room with him anymore. Not stand there and pretend they were strangers. Like they hadn’t bared their souls to one another. She blamed herself. It was her punishment for arguing with him the night before. For not making things right between them. They knew that every expedition could result in their deaths, but she had stubbornly refused to swallow her pride and apologize. And now the love of her life was as good as dead to her.

She couldn’t stay in the Survey Corps anymore.

~~~~~

Erwin looked up from the paper in front of him, surprise in his eyes. “Y/N.....are you sure this is what you want? It’s only been a month, Levi could-“

“I’m sure, Commander.” Y/N cut him off, not wanting to hear the false hope that she had been fed over and over again.

“I see.”

He sighed as he signed his name to it, telling her he thought she was wrong. His name and seal a fixed to the documents that would release her from service, making her a civilian again, he handed them back to her.

“Good luck, Y/N.”

She didn’t answer as she snapped to attention and saluted her Commander for the last time. She couldn’t because the urge to cry had robbed her of the ability to speak. She turned and walked out of his office for the last time.

~~~~~

Y/N looked around the little house she now called home. So many things were different about this life than her life in the Survey Corps.

She smiled as she looked at the cleaning bucket that was sitting on the floor. After years of living with Levi, old habits die hard. She had scrubbed for three days straight before it would be clean enough for his standards, and therefore her own.

She tried not to think about him everyday. Tried to cry a little less every time she woke up and he wasn’t beside her, or outside the door at his desk. She had spent the past three months trying to forget the fact that she was still in love with him.

Sighing, she bent down to pick up the bucket and clean up from cleaning. She had to get to work soon. The pub where she worked would be opening soon.

~~~~~

“Where in the fuck have you been?”

The low angry growl made her freeze. That voice was one she knew so well. She turned from where she was pouring a pint of beer to see the dangerously narrowed eyes of her former lover.

“Good evening Captain, get you a drink?” Y/N was surprised she could sound so nonchalant. She didn’t feel like it, not at all.

Levi’s eyes widened slightly before narrowing again, his mouth set in a frown. “I don’t want a fucking drink, I want to know where the hell you have been.”

“Right here, since I got out of the Scouts.” Y/N said, walking down to hand the pint to the waiting customer. She wished anyone else were there, but unfortunately everyone else had already been served and it was relatively quiet.

She reluctantly walked back to where the Captain was stand, his demand for answers still clear in his eyes.

“You left me.” His voice was low, unguarded as he broke eye contact, looking down. “Why?”

Y/N jerked her head and walked into the back room for a bit of privacy. It was a small room, filled with extra kegs and shelves of supplies. He shuffled into the space behind her, his body blocking her only exit.

She looked down at a barrel of ale on the floor as she answered. Her explanation was long winded and rambling, including all of the random thoughts she had while she was making her decision to leave.

“We fought so badly the night before. Maybe.....maybe it’s best that we just keep things the way they are now. It’s been four months, and you only just now remembered that I existed.” She finished, trying to keep her composure.

“No. Get your shit, Y/N. You’re coming back.” His tone was sharp and biting. Her head whipped up to look at him.

Those grey eyes softened as he stepped closer, pushing her closer to the edge of racks where the extra liquor was stored. His gaze darting down to her lips before coming back up to meet her eyes.

“I don’t give a shit if we argue everyday. I NEED you to come back. I hated when I suddenly remembered you and couldn’t find you on the base. Erwin told me you left, where you went.” He reached up to cup her cheek. “You are the love of my life and I want you to come home with me.” Levi whispered, his tone serious.

“Y/N....please.”

She closed her eyes, trying to figure out what was best. She had hurt so much, never wanting to feel that desperation again. She heard him shift, her lips covered by a warm and gentle kiss.

Every nerve in her body was set on fire by that simple kiss, the warmth spreading through her as she was enveloped in his scent. Her hands went up to his chest, intending to push him away, instead fisting into the pressed material and pulling him closer to her.

They stood, locked together for a long moment before breaking apart. She saw the relief in eyes, felt the shuddering heave of his chest under her fingers. She knew that she couldn’t stay away from Levi. She belonged with him. No matter where the journey would take them. She had giving up, accepted losing him, but she wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“I’ll come home, Levi.”

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mobiletreesblog · 3 years

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a-dinosaur-a-day · 5 years

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Yutyrannus huali

By Scott Reid

Etymology: Feathered Tyrant

First Described By: Xu et al., 2012

Classification: Dinosauromorpha, Dinosauriformes, Dracohors, Dinosauria, Saurischia, Eusaurischia, Theropoda, Neotheropoda, Averostra, Tetanurae, Orionides, Avetheropoda, Coelurosauria, Tyrannoraptora, Tyrannosauroidea, Proceratosauridae

Status: Extinct

Time and Place: Sometime between 129 and 122 million years ago, from the Barremian to the Aptian ages of the Early Cretaceous

Yutyrannus is known from an unspecified member of the Yixian Formation in Liaoning, China

Physical Description: Yutyrannus is one of those dinosaurs that probably wasn’t much to look at, in terms of extraordinary appearance, at the time it lived - but to us, it is one of the most fascinating and exciting dinosaurs ever found. It was a large predator, around 9 meters long and weighing a little over one tonne. It had a long snout like other Tyrannosaurs, with a high crest in the middle of the snout that makes it distinct from other Tyrannosaurs. It also had extremely hollowed out openings in its head, giving it a lighter weight skull. It had a very flat tongue, like a crocodile, that was also fairly fixed as opposed to living birds. It had short arms, with three fingers on each hand (unlike the Tyrannosaurids, which would have two), and long, powerfully muscular legs connected to a similarly muscular tail. Of course, the most interesting fact about Yutyrannus was its feathers. Yutyrannus was covered in long (as long as 20 centimeters), shaggy feathers, covering nearly all over the body of the dinosaur. This makes Yutyrannus one of the largest animals known with direct evidence of feathers. If scales were present on this fluffer-nutter, we aren’t actually sure where!

By Conty, CC BY-SA 3.0

Diet: As a Tyrannosaur, Yutyrannus would have fed primarily on other dinosaurs and animals smaller than itself.

Behavior: Yutyrannus was an extremely common animal in its habitat, which strongly suggests that it was at least somewhat social, possibly even a pack hunter. In fact, we have enough specimens of this animal to know that, as it grew, the lower legs, feet, pelvis, and arms grew smaller relative to its body; and the skull grew more robust and deep compared to the rest of the body. As a dinosaur, Yutyrannus would have taken care of its young; the fact that it was potentially social makes the likelihood of it doing so even larger. As for the feathers, it is more likely than not that Yutyrannus evolved these structures for the cold climate it lived in - it was, on average, only 10 degrees Celsius in the Yixian, which would have necessitated fluffy covering for maintaining body warmth. This also would explain why later Tyrannosaurids lost most of their feathers, as the climate of their habitat grew warmer. It is, however, possible that Yutyrannus also used at least some aspects of their feathers in social display - which is also the probable reason for the crest on the middle of its skull, which could have been colored differently or patterned in order to stand out to potential mates.

By Meig Dickson & Diane Remic

Ecosystem: Yutyrannus lived in the Yixian, a chilly coniferous forest marked with distinct seasonal changes and high levels of humidity, briefly broken up with notable dry seasons - in short, it was like modern-day Chicago, just with coniferous trees instead of deciduous ones (not least because deciduous trees, aka flowering trees, weren’t a very big deal yet). It would not be unsurprising if it had four distinct seasons - very wet springs, drier summers, dry autumns, and a return to humidity and wetness come winter. In fact, there is a nonzero chance that snow was a regular feature of the Yixian formation. There were a variety of flowering plants present along with ferns, horsetails, ginkgoes, cycads, seed ferns, and many others, leading to a variety of herbivores being present in this ecosystem. These forests surrounded a series of freshwater lakes with abundant minerals present, due to nearby volcanic reactions. Periodic disturbances due to these volcanic eruptions lead to very rapid animal turnover, and an extreme diversification - especially of fluffy dinosaurs - in the region.

By PaleoEquii, CC BY-SA 4.0

It is uncertain what sorts of dinosaurs actually lived with Yutyrannus, specifically because it is uncertain what part of the ecosystem Yutyrannus was found in. It is likely that it lived alongside the small early therizinosaur Jianchangosaurus, which would have been a major source of prey for Yutyrannus; it is also possible that it lived alongside the raptors Changyuraptor and Zhenyuanlong, which may have fed upon the babies of Yutyrannus. More research as to where in the ecosystem Yutyrannus hailed from will reveal more about its role in the food chain. It is possible, as shown above, that it may have hunted large sauropods such as Dongbeititan, provided it lived in the same region as them. Evidence of sauropod bones in the same location indicates that least some sort of sauropod was present as food for this dinosaur.

By Ripley Cook

Other: Yutyrannus was a Proceratosaurid, a group of early Tyrannosaurs which showcased interesting headgear, fluffy body covering, and what Tyrannosaurs were doing in the Early Cretaceous. Yutyrannus was one of the largest members of this group, and as such it is possible that it falls outside of the Proceratopsaurid group, as it has some features of the groups of Tyrannosaurs that would later evolve into the Tyrannosaurids. It is also entirely possible that Tyrannosaurids evolved from Proceratosaurids - and the traits of the group are just common to all early Tyrannosaurs.

~ By Meig Dickson

Sources Under the Cut

Amiot, R., X. Wang, Z. Zhou, X. X. Wang, E. Buffetaut, C. Lécuyer, Z. Ding, F. Fluteau, T. Hibino, N. Kusuhashi, J. Mo, V. Suteethorn, Y. Y. Wang, X. Xu, F. Zhang. 2011. Oxygen isotopes of East Asian dinosaurs reveal exceptionally cold Early Cretaceous climates. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 108 (13): 5179 - 5183.

Brusatte, S.L. and Carr, T.D. 2016. The phylogeny and evolutionary history of tyrannosauroid dinosaurs. Scientific Reports, 6(20252).

Carr, T. D., D. J. Varricchio, J. C. Sedlmayr, E. M. Roberts, and J. R. Moore. 2017. A new tyrannosaur with evidence for anagenesis and crocodile-like facial sensory system. Scientific Reports 7:44942:1-11

Coria, R. A.; Currie, P. J. (2006). "A new carcharodontosaurid (Dinosauria, Theropoda) from the Upper Cretaceous of Argentina". Geodiversitas. 28 (1): 71–118.

Fu, Q., J. B. Diez, M. Pole, M. G. Ávila, Z.-J. Liu, H. Chu, Y. Hou, P. Yin, G.-Q. Zhang, K. Du, X. Wang. 2018. An unexpected noncarpellate epigynous flower from the Jurassic of China. eLife 2018 (7): e38827.

Li, Zhiheng; Zhou, Zhonghe; Clarke, Julia A. (2018). "Convergent evolution of a mobile bony tongue in flighted dinosaurs and pterosaurs". PLOS ONE. 13 (6): e0198078.

Meng, F. X., S. Gao, X. M. Liu. 2008. U-Pb Zircon Geochronology and Geochemistry of Volcanic Rocks of the Yixian Formation in the Lingyuan Area, Western Liaoning, China. Geological Bulletin of China 27: 364 - 373.

Mo, J., F. Zhou, G. Li, Z. Huang, and C. Cao. 2014. A new Carcharodontosauria (Theropoda) from the Early Cretaceous of Guangxi, Southern China. Acta Geologica Sinica 88(4):1051-1059

Switek, B. 2013. Palaeontology: The truth about T. rex. Nature News, 23 October 2013.

Wang, Y., S. Zheng, X. Yang, W. Zhang, Q. Ni. 2006. The biodiversity and palaeoclimate of confier floras from the Early Cretaceous deposits in western Liaoning, northeast China. International Symposium on Cretaceous Major Geological Events and Earth System: 56A.

Xing L., Bell, P.R., Currie, P.J., Shibata M., Tseng K. & Dong Z. (2012). "A sauropod rib with an embedded theropod tooth: direct evidence for feeding behaviour in the Jehol group, China." Lethaia, (advance online publication).

Xu, X., K. Wang, K. Zhang, Q. Ma, L. Xing, C. Sullivan, D. Hu, S. Cheng, and S. Wang. 2012. A gigantic feathered dinosaur from the Lower Cretaceous of China. Nature 484:92-95

Zhou, Z. 2006. Evolutionary Radiation of the Jehol Biota: Chronological and Ecological Perspectives. Geological Journal 41: 377 - 393.

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creepingsharia · 4 years

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“32,000 Christians Butchered to Death”: Muslim Persecution of Christians, May 2020

by Raymond Ibrahim

The following are among the abuses Muslims inflicted on Christians throughout the month of May 2020:

The Slaughter of Christians

Nigeria: From January 2020 to mid-May 2020, Muslim terrorists massacred at least 620 Christians (470 by Fulani herdsmen and 150 by Boko Haram). According to a May 14 report:

Militant Fulani Herdsmen and Boko Haram … have intensified their anti-Christian violence … with hacking to death in the past four months and half of 2020 of no fewer than 620 defenseless Christians, and wanton burning or destruction of their centers of worship and learning. The atrocities against Christians have gone unchecked and risen to alarming apogee with the country’s security forces and concerned political actors looking the other way or colluding with the Jihadists. Houses burnt or destroyed during the period are in their hundreds; likewise dozens of Christian worship and learning centers.

The report further states that, since 2009, “not less than 32,000 Christians have been butchered to death by the country’s main Jihadists.”

Earlier this year, Christian Solidarity International issued a “Genocide Warning for Christians in Nigeria,” in response to the “rising tide of violence directed against Nigerian Christians and others classified as ‘infidels’ by Islamist militants…” More recently, in a May statement, the Christian Rights Agenda, another human rights group, expressed concern for “the seeming silence of Nigeria’s President, Gen. Muhammadu Buhari, who as the commander-in-chief of the armed forces has not only failed to protect the Christian communities but has remained silent over these killings. To date, no Fulani herdsmen have been arrested and prosecuted over the killings, a development that has helped to embolden them.” It is worth noting that Buhari himself is a Fulani Muslim.

Separately, the Muslim man who murdered Michael Nnadi, an 18-year-old seminarian at the Good Shepherd Seminary, confessed from his jail cell that he did so because the youth “continued preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ” to his captors. According to the May 3 report, “the first day Nnadi was kidnapped … he did not allow [Mustapha Mohammed, his murderer] to have peace” due to his relentless preaching of the Gospel. Mohammed “did not like the confidence displayed by the young man and decided to send him to an early grave.”

Democratic Republic of Congo: Muslim fighters from the Allied Democratic Forces, which earlier pledged allegiance to the Islamic State (ISIS), murdered at least 17 people, possibly many more, in the Christian-majority (95%) African nation. “They fired several shots in the air,” a local said. “When the population was fleeing, they captured some people and cut them up with machetes.” In late 2019, the same group murdered a pastor after he refused to stop preaching and convert to Islam.

Attacks on Christian Churches, Cemeteries, and Crosses

Greece: Muslim migrants ransacked and transformed a church into their personal toilet. This public restroom was once the St. Catherine Church in Moria, a small town on the island of Lesvos, which has been flooded with migrants who arrived via Turkey. “The smell inside is unbearable,” said a local. “[T]he metropolitan of Mytilene is aware of the situation in the area, nevertheless, he does not wish to deal with it for his own reasons.” According to the report:

This is only the latest incident … [I]t has become extremely common for Greek Orthodox Churches to be vandalised and attacked by illegal immigrants on Lesvos….

As a deeply religious society, these attacks on churches are shocking to the Greek people and calls to question whether these illegal immigrants seeking a new life in Europe are willing to integrate and conform to the norms and values of their new countries.

These continued attacks have ultimately seen the people of Lesvos, who were nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize in 2016, become increasingly frustrated by the unresolved situation that has restricted and changed their lives as they no longer feel safe on their once near crime-free island.

Other incidents on Lesvos include “African immigrants ridiculing and coughing on police in the midst of the coronavirus pandemic, and thousands of olives trees being destroyed.”

St. Catherine’s in Lesvos, now a Muslim toilet.

Turkey: On May 8, a man tried to torch a church in Istanbul; the church had been attacked in the previous years, sometimes with hate-filled graffiti. When police detained the arsonist, he said “I burned it because they [Christians] brought the coronavirus [onto Turkey].” Discussing this incident, another report said that “Minorities in Turkey, such as Armenians, Rums and Syriacs [all Christians], as well as their places of worship, are occasionally targeted in hate attacks.”

Two weeks later, on May 22, in broad daylight, a man climbed the fence of a historic Armenian church in Istanbul and proceeded to yank off its metal cross and hurl it to the ground, as captured on surveillance footage. The man, who looks more like a Westernized “hipster” than an ardent Islamist, walks up to and stares at the cross for a while — he even looks at and strikes a pose for the security camera — before attacking the crucifix.

Pakistan: After Friday prayers on May 8, an armed Muslim mob shouting “anti-Christian slogans” attacked and tried to set fire to the Trinity Pentecostal Church in Hakeem Pura. Built 22 years ago, the church was desecrated, and a large cross and part of a wall broken. The Muslim man behind the attack had sold land to the growing church a year earlier, and now wanted it back. A Christian eyewitness said that the mob, “after attacking the walls and the cross, challenging anyone who dare oppose them, fled… Not only was the cross broken, but our hearts were crushed too.”

Separately, Muslim “land grabbers” seized, desecrated, and ploughed over the graves of a century-old Christian cemetery with a tractor. According to the May 22 report:

The Christian community there reportedly protested against the violation and tried to stop the vandalism. However, they were allegedly threatened with guns… [A]ll graves that were destroyed had crosses fixed on the top… [S]ome of the houses occupied by the Christians were demolished and people were forced to flee from their homes. Amid widespread discrimination against the Christian community in Pakistan, the properties owned by the minorities are often subjected to injustice including land grabbing and being the target of criminals. Moreover, the economic disparities and religious bias in Pakistan’s judiciary have increased the struggles Christians face to recover the lost land.

Serbia: On Sunday, May 31, two Muslim migrants entered the St. Alexander Nevsky Church in Belgrade during service and robbed several of the mostly elderly congregants. “There were two of them. They broke into the church during the liturgy, which was in progress, and they stole two purses along with three mobile phones,” a church leader said, adding:

Upon entering the temple, they split up on two sides, and after the people saw what was happening, they managed to catch one of them and take away his mobile phones and the money he stole. The other managed to escape. He took two purses, in one there were 3,500 dinars, while in the other there were 18,000, which was the entire pension of one woman. We handed that young man over to the police, while the other managed to escape. This is an insult. Isn’t anything sacred to people, such as the liturgy? Terrible.

Egypt: On May 30, 2020 — two days before President Trump recognized Global Coptic Day — Egyptian authorities demolished the only Coptic church in village of Koum al-Farag, even though it had stood for 15 years and served 3,000 Christians. According to the report:

The destruction of the church was a punishment for the ‘crime’ of building rooms for Sunday school…. When the work began, some extremist Muslims began to attack Christians.

A separate report on this incident relates:

According to an ancient Islamic tradition, or common law, churches are prevented from being formally recognised or displaying any Christian symbols if a mosque is built next to them.

The authorities decided to solve this issue by demolishing the church, which took a tractor “six long hours,” a Copt recalled:

The decision was not welcomed by the Christians in the village, so they protested by appearing at the site in possession of the documents. However, the police and some radicals began to insult and assault Christians, including women and children. The church leader received so many punches in the face and chest that he passed out.

In a separate attack in the early hours of May 16, “an air conditioning technician threw a Molotov cocktail inside the Virgin Mary Church in Alexandria.” According to the report:

Security camera footage led to his apprehension. Fortunately, no one was injured in this attack. Predictably, however, the prosecutors appear to be [pursuing] an acquittal on the claim that the perpetrator of the religious hate crime is also mentally ill. Based on precedent, it is extremely unlikely that this perpetrator will face any consequences for his attempt to torch a church.

Mozambique: Islamic terrorists attacked a monastery. The four monks residing in it managed to hide and emerge unscathed. However, the hospital they were building for a nearby village was destroyed by the armed Muslims. According to the May 18 report:

Little is known about the insurgents, and until recently there were doubts they were actually islamists, but they have claimed to be fighting for the imposition of Sharia law in the North of Mozambique…. The attack on the monastery, which included the destruction of a hospital that the monks were building in the village, is the second most serious attack against a Christian target since the troubles began. Last month a Catholic mission was also attacked, although, as here, nobody was killed. Other communities have not been so lucky, as the insurgents have left a trail of death and destruction behind them in the towns and villages they attack.

Nigeria: On May 7, a helicopter bombed and destroyed a church. The building was empty at the time; no casualties were reported. According to a local leader,

The helicopter used to hover around the area, dropping some things. We don’t know what they have been dropping but yesterday in the afternoon, the helicopter came and dropped a bomb … [The] Assembly of God church was destroyed including a nearby building…. Hours after the incident, a group of people numbering about 100 pass through the village carrying guns. Some were trekking while others rode on motorcycles. One of them was carrying a flag which is not a Nigerian flag; one other person was making some incantations in Arabic… People have fled the village… The question is who was in the helicopter dropping bomb?… We are very concerned … If it was a mistake by security agencies, they should come out and explain so as to allay the fears of the community.

Algeria: Four Muslim guards responsible for protecting a church vandalized and overturned its statue of the Virgin Mary. According to the report,

[T]he chapel of Santa Cruz built in stones extracted from the mountain of Murdjadjo where it is perched, was the object of an attempted theft… Four looters allegedly destroyed the statue of the Virgin Mary by attempting to steal it. They have even destroyed other holy monuments in their path….

It was later found, however, that the chapel’s four hired guards were themselves the “looters” responsible for the desecration. The report continues:

In addition, the Christian community in Algeria denounces… the intimidation which the faithful are subject to. Many Christians have denounced the series of closings of churches in the national territory. Several evangelical associations and organizations have called for an end to “the increasing pressure and intimidation from the Algerian government.”

Iran: On Sunday, May 17, a Christian cemetery was set ablaze, just two days after the tomb of the biblical Esther and Mordecai was also set on fire on the 72nd anniversary of the creation of the State of Israel. Damage at the tomb — a holy site shared by Jews and Christians — was reportedly minimal. Few other details concerning the burned Christian cemetery aside from video footage showing smoke billowing over its walls are available. A Hindu temple was also reportedly set on fire in May.

France: Unknown vandals cut down an iconic iron cross that had stood on the summit of Pic Saint-Loup since 1911 and was visible for miles around. According to the May 14 report,

While Europe has experienced a growing number of acts of vandalism and profanation of Christian sites, the greatest number of such acts have occurred in France, where churches, schools, cemeteries, and monuments “are being vandalized, desecrated, and burned at an average rate of three per day,” according to reports drawing from government statistics.

Although the identity of the vandals responsible for this latest outrage is unknown, it appears that Western European nations that have large Muslim migrant populations are seeing a disproportionate rise in attacks on churches and Christian symbols. According to a 2017 study on France — which has the largest Muslim population in Europe — “Islamist extremist attacks on Christians” rose by 38%, going from 273 attacks in 2015 to 376 in 2016; the majority occurred during Christmas season and “many of the attacks took place in churches and other places of worship.” Similarly, around Christmas 2016, in a German region where more than a million Muslims reside, some 50 public Christian statues (including those of Jesus) were beheaded and crucifixes broken.

Abduction, Rape, and Forced Conversion of Christian Women

Nigeria: Between March 23 and April 30, six young Christian girls and one older married woman were kidnapped. “We are saddened to report to you the battles we have been fighting even amidst the lockdown,” the Hausa Christians Foundation reported on May 4, adding that it “has been working on the following tragic incidences of abduction and forceful Islamization, despite the fact that the lockdown has limited our efforts.” The statement continues:

The usual practice is that these girls will be forced into marriage and perpetually be abused sexually, physical and emotionally. We are doing our best to rescue these precious lives but our efforts have been truncated by the current government imposed lockdown that has put everything on hold…. The simple reason for the injustice and the persecution we have been subjected to… is because of our faith in Christ Jesus.

Two of the young girls have since been rescued.

Pakistan: Another young Christian girl was kidnapped. According to a May 2 report,

On Sunday, April 26, a 14-year-old Christian girl … was abducted by a group of armed Muslim men… [T]he Christian girl’s family has filed a police report and is begging police to recover their relative…. Myra Shehbaz was abducted by a group of Muslim men led by Muhammad Naqash. Eye witnesses claim that Myra was attacked while she was traveling to her workplace as a domestic worker on Sunday afternoon…. Myra’s abductors forced her into a car and Myra tried to resist…. [The] abductors were armed and fired several shots into the air…. [The girl’s mother] fears her daughter will be raped, forcefully converted is [sic] Islam, or even killed…. [A]n estimated 1,000 women and girls from Pakistan’s Hindu and Christian community are assaulted, abducted, forcefully married to their captor, and forcibly converted to Islam every year.

Egypt: In a May 22 report, Coptic Solidarity, a human rights organization focused on the plight of Egypt’s Christians, made the following remarks:

The indigenous Coptic Christians of Egypt continue to experience increasing persecution, by the government and society…. To illustrate, at least five Coptic women, including some minors, have reportedly been kidnapped or disappeared in just the last few weeks, and Egyptian state security has made no concerted effort to recover them…. Ranya Abd al-Masih, a Coptic wife and mother of three from a town just north of the capital, Cairo… remains hidden despite protests, including from the region’s church, which laments “the total lack of reaction by the authorities.”

Hate for and Abuse of Christians

Austria: A local newspaper reported:

A graffiti that rightly causes a lot of agitation. The lettering “Christians must die” can be seen at the Traisen-Markt train station. Above it, in the same style, the words “Allach Akkbar” [sic]. The removal of the graffiti has already begun and will cost about 500 Euros.

Uganda: A Muslim father burned his daughter for converting to Christianity. While traveling with her father, a sheikh (respected elder) of the Muslim community, Rehema Kyomuhendo, 24, heard the gospel and secretly converted. On the night of May 4, while she and her father were staying at her aunt’s home, she called a Christian associate: “As she was sharing Christ with me, I was so overjoyed,” Rehema later explained, “and my father heard my joy and woke up, came from his bedroom furiously and started beating me up with blows, slaps and kicks.” He also shouted that he was “going to kill her.” He broke a gas container, lit the pieces with the unspilt fuel, and began to burn his daughter. Her cries awakened her aunt, who protected her from the sheikh. Last reported, Rehema was expected to need more than a month of hospitalization due to “serious burns on her leg, stomach, rib area, near her neck and on part of her back.” No one has “reported the assault to police for fear that her father might try kill her.”

Pakistan: In another example of abuse of Christians in connection to COVID-19, “an Islamic cleric claims his organization is using COVID-19 food aid to convert non-Muslims to Islam,” according to a May 8 report. Speaking on Pakistani television, the cleric boasted of how when a destitute Christian man came for aid, the “staff of the organization offered him conversion against food which he accepted.” The man was subsequently renamed Muhammad Ramadan, signifying his conversion had occurred during the Muslim holy month. The cleric had added that Muhammad was then fasting (which is ironic considering hunger is what prompted him to convert in the first place).

About this Series

The persecution of Christians in the Islamic world has become endemic. Accordingly, “Muslim Persecution of Christians” was developed in 2011 to collate some—by no means all—of the instances of persecution that occur or are reported each month. It serves two purposes:

1) To document that which the mainstream media does not: the habitual, if not chronic, persecution of Christians.

2) To show that such persecution is not “random,” but systematic and interrelated—that it is rooted in a worldview inspired by Islamic Sharia.

Accordingly, whatever the anecdote of persecution, it typically fits under a specific theme, including hatred for churches and other Christian symbols; apostasy, blasphemy, and proselytism laws that criminalize and sometimes punish with death those who “offend” Islam; sexual abuse of Christian women; forced conversions to Islam; theft and plunder in lieu of jizya (financial tribute expected from non-Muslims); overall expectations for Christians to behave like cowed dhimmis, or second-class, “tolerated” citizens; and simple violence and murder. Sometimes it is a combination thereof.

Because these accounts of persecution span different ethnicities, languages, and locales—from Morocco in the West, to Indonesia in the East—it should be clear that one thing alone binds them: Islam—whether the strict application of Islamic Sharia law, or the supremacist culture born of it.

Previous Reports:

#Islam #Muslim #Sharia #Jihad #Immigration #Legal #News #Persecution #Religion #Terror #Politics #Travel #Media #Mosque

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what-the--curtains · 4 years

Text

Braving the Elements

Chapter 4: explanations and introductions

TW: mentions of forced experimentation, swearing

Songs

(playing when she enters the room with all the Avengers)

(when she first looks at Bucky and then again when demonstrating her powers)

Authors note: oof this is a long one but our boy is finally in it! Once again apologies for not making it a (continue reading) but i am trapped on mobile RIP

“Sorry about this.” Wanda says, tightening the cuffs currently trapping your hands behind your back.

“ Don’t worry about it, I’d have done the same.” you say.

“Jesus (Y/N) what have you gotten yourself into now?” she chuckles uneasily with worry in her eyes, as she gently grazes the bruise on your face with her hand.

“Oh you know me. Just placed my bet on the wrong horse is all.” You say lightly. She removes her hand nodding slightly. This answer seems to have satisfied her for now.

“Well most of the guys are asleep, but you can meet the head honchos now.” she says.

“ What is this an Al Pacino movie?” you ask with a smile.

She laughs, picking up the bag you had dropped on the floor and leading you to the elevator.

As you enter the room the four Avengers all stare at you. You had seen them on the news before so you could put names to faces. Not to mention you choked one of them out yesterday. Tony speaks up first “Well this is uncomfortable.” You clear your throat before speaking

“Sorry about the light choking cap! Nothing personal.”

“Sorry about the shield in the back” he responds.

“So, even Stevens then?” You ask with a hopeful smile.

“No..” says Tony screwing up his eyebrows in confusion “Not, ‘even Stevens’, you robbed a bank, severely injured four guards and have been working for a mobster for the past six months!”

“Fair enough.” you reply, “Hey Wanda wanna open that bag you have there?” Looking at you with just a hint of doubt she opens the bag and pulls out one of many wads of cash.

“Figured I shouldn’t show up empty handed, so I brought back the money I stole and the safe thing. That’s in there too.”

“Not bad” Tony shrugs, peering into the bag.

“As for the whole working for a mobster thing it’s really not what it looks like. I mean I didn’t want to take up crime. It just kinda happened!” You express.

“Alright then, please enlighten us on how you started as a friend of our dear Wandas and ended up robbing banks.” Tony says taking a seat across from you.

“Alright don’t get your panties in a knot Stark. I’ll start at the beginning, and please hold your applause until the end. My parents sold me to a government run lab at the ripe old age of 7 when I first started showing signs of being “different” “ you say making air quotes around the final word.

“When the mutant gene presented itself.” Wanda clarifies

“ I mean, I did accidentally light the couch on fire after getting angry about something, but in my defense, I was a kid! How was I supposed to know any better? By my ninth birthday Xavier had managed to shut down the lab on the basis of it violating the mutant rights act. He took all us kids in and taught us how to control our powers and gave us a pretty amazing education. It was the first real home I ever had and it was also where I met Wanda.” Your voice falters for a second. “Hey, by the way I’m really sorry about Pietro, he was a great kid, best kind, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” She gives you a small, but reassuring smile and you continue “When I turned 18 I decided to leave, wanted to see what the world had to offer. Along the way I met Magneto who convinced me that what he was doing was right, so I joined his fight. Then proceeded to lose said fight. All of us non-compliant mutants were given two options: go to prison or serve your country and join the military!” you say in an old timey radio voice

“So you chose prison and Roman broke you out?” Nat inquired

“Oh god no! I picked the military, figured I’d get out eventually, but I got tired of fighting for a country that secretly hated my existence, so I tried to leave, but they wouldn’t let me. When I refused to fight they discharged me, deemed me a danger to society and locked me up in one of those fancy prisons you helped build Mr. Stark. By the way do you know what really goes on in there?” Tony glances at you out the corner of his eye “I designed it, I don’t run it, so no” he scoffs.

“Figured as much, your type don’t tend to care once you’ve got a payment” you state matter of factly.

“Hey, now that’s a bit out of line.” Steve jumps in defending Tony

“You know what was out of line Mr. America?” you snap back “Being forcibly tested without my consent. I lost teeth, bone marrow, fingernails, and part of my liver and I was only there for 6 months, so maybe you should look into that Mr. high and mighty.” Tony’s face turns white “No, I didn’t know that.” he manages to say. Cap and Nat avoid your eyes, but are obviously shocked while Wanda wipes away a single tear.

“ Come on don’t act so naive, mutant testing has been going on for years they just got better at hiding it. Anyways, Romy broke me out so I went to work for him.”

“Makes sense guy saves you from a life time of torture I’d work for him as well.” Nat says.

“So why did you leave him?”, Steve asks

“What? The face doesn’t give it away.” you reply “Also turns out the guy legally owns me.”

“He what?” Nat and Wanda yell in unison

“Ya the bastard drugged me up and got me to sign a contract signing myself over to him. So, I left, wanted to make things right and now I’m here to offer my help, get redemption or whatever. If you’ll have me.” No one says anything “Well I mean I also kinda figured you were my best shot at bringing him down. See he has dozens of mutant files in his office, but I’ve never seen any of them. Leading me to the conclusion that he’s up to something.”

“And why exactly should we trust you after all you’ve done?” Tony poses

“Wanda side pocket of the bag,” she pulls out multiple brown folders

“That’s my contract, along with ones belonging to a few other mutants, also I’m gonna need you to cut my arm open” you say. They look up at you with concerned, and slightly disturbed, faces.

“There’s a microchip in it with all the downloaded files from his work computer before I blew it, and his HQ up.”

“Pretty crafty. I knew I liked you!” Nat smiles

“Thanks!” you return

“Well it’s a pretty good start,” says Tony “but the others will have to agree. So we’ll have a vote in the morning. Which is in approximately,” he pauses looking down at his watch, “5 hours so I’d suggest we all get some sleep.” The rest of the team nods in agreement and Nat, Tony and Steve leave the room. Wanda hangs back for a second “Hey, I’m really glad you’re here I’ve missed you.”

Sheepishly you respond “Ya, I’ve missed you too. Hey Wanda?”

She stops in the doorway “Ya?”

“Is the rest of the team as hot as you guys?” you ask wiggling your eyebrows

She snorts “Oh ya. Just wait till you meet the rest of them, they blow Summers out of the water.”

“Which Summers brother Wanda? Which one?” you call with fake urgency, but she doesn’t answer.

You’re woken up by the sound of light tapping on glass. You must have dozed off. Wanda walks in with two cups of coffee, placing one down in front of you. She puts her own cup down on the table and frees your hands. “Thanks,” you say shaking out your arms, which had partially fallen asleep, before taking the cup from her.

From a distance you hear Tony’s voice exclaiming

“Well we have a very special surprise for you all. A delivery that arrived last night.” Stopping in front of the door he continues “Now some of you may know her, but for those who don’t, this…” he says pointing towards you through the glass “is (y/n).” You gaze back at the substantial group of people currently staring at you, suddenly understanding how a tiger in a zoo might feel. The group has two teens, one of which you recognized as Shuri, the princess of Wakanda. You also take note of the four large, and very attractive male Avengers making up the rest of the group who you recognized as Clint, Sam, Bucky and Vision . “You were right, they are hot, even better than they look on the news!” you whisper to Wanda causing her to roll her eyes.

“Hey! You trapped me in a tree!” the teen boy pipes up

“Spiderman is a child?” You question, before Peter can denounce the use of the term child, you continue “Sorry about that kid. I won't do it again. Promise!”

“So were just letting any run of the mill villains onto our team?” Sam asks.

“ Well I wouldn’t exactly call myself run of the mill, and I did bring back the cash I borrowed.” You say.

“ Borrowed?” Bucky asked with a smirk, you go to say something snarky back, but are taken aback for a moment when your eyes meet his. Wow. These have gotta be the most gorgeous eyes you’d ever seen, a color of blue that falls somewhere between a stormy ocean and steel. You hadn’t failed to notice that they were attached to a very nice face, leading you to speculate that his body was probably equally as exquisite. You quickly pull yourself out of the trance realizing you probably hadn’t said anything in a few seconds and were just openly staring at this man.

“Ya, borrowed, I took it and brought it back, how would you define the term?” Sam laughs, and Bucky frowns slightly before nodding his head in agreement.

“Also weren’t like, at least half of you guys, all villains at some point?” you ask.

“That is a very valid point” Clint spoke up.

“Thank you! Your my new favorite person” you say causing Wanda to give you a look of fake offence.

“Alright now you’ve met her it's time to cast votes to see if she should join the team.” Steve says

“Wait!” you exclaim, “Don’t you guys want to know what you’re buying before you pay for it?”

You smile at Wanda. She reluctantly gives into your demand huffing out a “Fine. Anyone got any water?” Peter pulls his backpack forwards to his chest and takes out his water bottle throwing it to Wanda. “Alright what about a lighter?” Leaning forward Bucky pulls one out of his back pocket and throws it at you. Catching it you smile and place it on the table.

“Steve can you pull in that ficus from just outside the door?” lifting his eyebrows in suspicions he lifts up the potted plant and.

“Not bad doll” Bucky says almost impressed

“Well sweetie buckle up cause you ain’t seen nothing yet!” The half dead ficus Steve had dragged into the office suddenly began to turn green again and began sprouting new leaves. Using the air from the room you carefully pick the plant up and return it to the hallway dropping it back to its original spot.

“And for my final trick,” You say while flicking Bucky's lighter open. You gather a few embers and create a ball of fire between your hands. You extinguish the ball between your hands and throw the lighter back to Bucky.

“Well that’s gonna come in handy” Clint says

”I also served in the military for 2 years so I can shoot and fight as good as any of you”

“That I can personally vouch for” Steve says rubbing his throat “Anyway, let's vote.”

“Well I want you to stay,” Wanda says excitedly “we’ve got 10 years of catching up to do.”

You were surprised when the next person to pipe up was Bucky “ Can’t exactly say no, I was a war criminal before joining you guys.”

“I was a yes the second you blew up that building.” Nat says placing a hand on your shoulder.

So far everyone has said yes though some more begrudgingly than others.

Everyone looks to Tony for the final say.

“What the hell, she can stay, just no powers in the loft!”

“But what if I need something like an ice cube or a bonfire!” you proclaim

“Fine no destructive powers! Shuri can you get started on making her a suit?”

“Thank god someone with style is doing it” you say Causing Shuri to smirk and nod her head up at you

“Sam trains all the new recruits so you're going to go up against him tomorrow. He’ll figure out where you are in your fighting abilities” Tony says.

You turn to Sam and give him a wicked smile. Sam looks back at you, obviously concerned before muttering, “I swear if we just let another psychopath into this building so help me god”

“Don’t worry I’ll go easy on ya!” you say patting him on the back.

“C’mon” Wanda says, pulling your arm “I'll show you to your room!”

“Great!” you respond as she leads you down the hall “This is me, This is Bucky and then this is all yours” she says opening the door. The room was a decent size with a double bed, floor to ceiling windows, a closet and an ensuite bathroom. It wasn’t as extravagant as the apartment Roman had gotten you, but it’d do just fine “I’ll leave you to get unpacked” Wanda says before leaving the room. You head downstairs back to the car you had stolen the night before and grab your two suitcases out of the trunk. Using the midday wind, you launch them over towards the front entrance, almost hitting an unsuspecting Sam who was just exiting for a run with Bucky. “Sorry! Didn’t see you there.” You shout tensing up slightly.

“If you think taking me out with a suitcase is gonna give you the upper hand tomorrow you are sorely mistaken.” Sam laughs.

“Darn saw right through my clever plan!” you respond feigning disbelief.

“Nice car.” Bucky says

“Thanks I stole it.” you respond breezing by the two men and picking up your cases before heading up the stairs to the elevator

“You know I can’t tell if she’s joking or not.” Sam says looking to Bucky

“20 bucks says she isn’t.” he responds with a chuckle.

You make it upstairs and open your suitcase “unpacking” most of your clothes straight onto the floor before jumping in the shower.

The hot water hits your body and you begin to scrub away all the troubles (and grime) from the past two days. As you wash you notice the array of bruises on your body. Poking at one on your hip which you figure must have happened when you landed on it during the robbery. You press it again and squint in pain. After a thorough cleaning you turn off the water and wrap a towel around your body. Wiping steam off the mirror you look at your face. Your split lip had basically closed up and the bruises around your neck and on your face had gone from an array of dark purple hues to ones with yellowish undertones. After looking at your face for a bit longer you brush your teeth, put on your pyjamas and drift off to sleep.

#bucky x reader #bucky x oc #bucky x you #bucky barns #braving the elements #Spotify

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all-ringils-blazing · 5 years

Text

50 Things You’ve Never Been Asked

Tagged by @theslumberofthebeast

Aufhwufhbeyfwgrhtefb thanks again friendo 🙏💕 !!!! Wow that’s a long long tag thingy there hmmm....

What is the colour of your hairbrush? Black-purple

Name a food that you never eat. I’ll go with sushi too, generally not a fan of Asian cuisine

Are you typically too warm or too cold? Too cold

What were you doing 45 minutes ago? Washing the dishes

What is your favourite candy bar? Bounty❤ Wish I had one right now yuuuuuum💦

Have you ever been to a professional sports game? No and I don’t intend to lol

What is the last thing you said out loud? "Come and clean the coffee machine you used, you filthy idiot” to my brother❤

What is your favourite ice cream? Vanilla

What was the last thing you had to drink? Coffee

Do you like your wallet? I would if that bitch had more money inside

What was the last thing you ate? Lentil soup which is a traditional dish here and most people hate but I unbelievably love. Maybe my mom is just a great cook👌

Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? Yeah ordered some t-shirts to wear... absolutely nowhere #quarantine_till_we_die

The last sporting event you watched? I don’t watch sports

What is your favourite flavour of popcorn? The classic butter and salt

Who is the last person you sent a message to? My beloved friend

Ever been camping? No but I’d like to! (says the idiot that shits herself when even a little insect flies past her ok)

Do you take vitamins? LOOK... I should take ferrum but I’m an idiot who doesn’t take care of her health

Do you go to church every Sunday? Not every Sunday but I may go on random days of the week if I feel like it, to light a candle and talk to God. I prefer it tbh Sundays are always crowded

Do you have a tan? No I never get a tan my loser pale skin only gets burns

Do you prefer Chinese food over pizza? Pizza, as I said I don’t like Asian cuisine

Do you drink your soda with a straw? I don’t drink soft drinks

What colour socks do you usually wear? Black, white, gray, deep blue

Do you ever drive above the speed limit? I don’t drive yet but I’m gonna be a very careful driver in my life cause driving already scares the shit out of me oooof

What terrifies you? Insects and heights mostly

Look to your left, what do you see? My mobile phone

What chore do you hate most? Emptying the washing machine and generally putting the dishes back where they belong ugh boriiing we are gonna use them again and wash them again as well why doing that lol

What do you think of when you hear Australian accent? Oh I didn’t even know they have an accent sorry

What’s your favourite soda? I don’t like soft drinks

Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive? I’m not gonna move my body to eat something unhealthy dude I just order

What is your favourite number? 1?

Who’s the last person you talked to? My brother

Favourite cut of beef? Rib

Last song you listened to? Endure the Silence by Myrath

Last book you read? Cover to cover? I finished Blood of Elves and now I’m reading Time of Contempt, both by Andrzej Sapkowski

Favourite day of the week? Friday

Can you say the alphabet backwards? Hell it will take me like an hour lol

How do you like your coffee? Black cold espresso in general but when I have a throat ache I choose anything of a hot black coffee

Favourite pair of shoes? My white sneakers

The time you normally get up? 9:00

What do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? Sunrise but I rarely see it lol

How many blankets on your bed? One but I wake up with it on the floor lol it’s already getting too warm here

Describe your kitchen plates. White with some blue and yellow flowers on them. If I remember well. Don’t make me go and check.

Describe your kitchen at the moment? Shiny, smelling good, I just cleaned it

Do you have a favourite alcoholic drink? Wine and beer, depends on the mood, I mostly have wine

Do you play cards? Aaaaaah yep if I have company. In my very first university years I was always carrying a pack of cards in my bag for our breaks lol like a damn gambler

What colour is your car? I don’t have a car but my first is gonna be white I want a white car !!!

Can you change a tire? I have never tried mate I may can who knows

Your favourite state? I’m not American I don’t really know the states lol but I always wanted to go to New Orleans which is in Louisiana that is a state right?

Favourite job you’ve had? I’m a student but I have done one or two minor jobs. I don’t know which was my fav, I guess that time I was a lawyer’s secretary for 2 days. I wasn’t bad the lawyer is a family friend and just needed me only for 2 days lol did my best😭

How did you get your biggest scar? I tore my eyebrow when I was 5? I fell from a tree? I dont really know my mom had told me the story I remember nothing but it’s still kinda visible, there is a small blank space on my eyebrow lol

MY TAGS TIME: @ace-bi-says-hi @the-white-frost @fresno-nightcrawler @silent-calling @pinkpolygons @huffleppuffs @the-music-dork @awkwardalbatros @punk-courtesan @al-capwned @emperor-draygon @emptyskulls @underworld-priest @mochibat @wholelottatiffy @arnoediad

That was a long tag game so I totally understand if you are bored to do it guys but it’s fun. Stay healthy, love you❤

#personal shit

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burtlederp · 5 years

Text

Broken Pieces Superhero AU

Many, many, many, many thanks to @quirkykayleetam, who is a fantastic and patient editor and collaborator on this beauty! I’m the one posting it this time, as I ended up writing most of it... XD Boy am I glad it’s done! I hope y’all enjoy!

tw: blood, guns, cartoon villainy except that there’s Gatling guns and giant automatons

Chapter 3: Same Old, Same Old

A few days passed since Damien and Daniel met. They were quiet, Damien going about his usual business as the rest of the town was.

Then the power went out.

That in and of itself was only a minor issue; a good portion of the town's populace already powered their homes with generators or lived near some who did to share.

It was an issue, however, when the supervillain Roman blew up the bridge of the one road leading into and out of town, as well as the airstrip. It probably wouldn’t have been as much of an issue to everybody but he just happened to choose the day the Walmart delivery truck arrived.

Damien was tired, having finished a graveyard shift and gone straight to his job at the gas station, but duty called. He “suddenly” came down with a bad case of the flu, quickly changed in a hidden spot, and hurried to the police station where he got the details: Roman was holding the whole town hostage and would continue to do so until he’d received $20,000 in cash from the Alaskan governor. Whether or not the governor had heard and was organizing rescue of some sort was unknown, as all signals seemed to be jammed.

It was a very standard situation for the Alchemist, maybe a bit bigger than Roman usually went, but nonetheless simple and straightforward: Find Roman, punch him a bit, then then let him run away. The Alchemist saves the day! Easy

Alchemist didn’t even think of the Rogue as he made laps around the town, garbed in his usual summer costume, searching made a little more difficult by the summer foliage. He checked a few spots downtown that he checked every time Roman showed his face, then moved his way down the highway to the bridge. The overpass was guarded by two large brass automatons both wielding large spears that looked to be attached to chain of large bullets which looped up over their shoulders. There was no sign of Roman himself, and assuming those spears were more than they appeared, the Alchemist kept low and out of sight as he moved on, searching.

The Alchemist found Roman at the destroyed airstrip. Three large automatons patrolled the area and the aircraft hangar seemed to be the center of operations. The Alchemist could see Roman from his hiding spot in the trees, the villain sitting proudly on his mobile throne. Ed, the town’s only pilot was chained to a chair while some poor kidnapped cameraman sat tensely beside him cradling a large TV camera.

The stage was set. It was time for the games to begin.

The automatons patrolled rather closely to the hangar itself; sneaking between them would be difficult and risky. They were large, about twenty feet high each, all with those probably-a-Gatling-gun spears in their hands and, on top of that, Alchemist already knew that being punched by one of those things would suck. The robots’ “eyes”’ were two large globular implants hidden behind their helmets. Roman’s large tank was parked out front, obscuring clear vision into the hangar, whose main door was open. Only one plane inside was still untouched; the mayor’s was destroyed, currently being torn even further asunder by one of Roman’s confounded fabrication machines. Prioritizing, Alchemist knew that Roman himself was not the real threat here: it was the automatons.

“What’s the easiest way to take down a person?” Alchemist rubbed his jaw, hidden beneath his mask. “Well, tripping them, but I have no rope or chain, so…” Alchemist’s eye was drawn to a young, tall spruce growing nearby, and a very stupid idea came to mind.

It was difficult, a little more than Alchemist anticipated, but only a few minutes later he had bent the spruce back so far it was about to split, and it was all he could do to keep his feet on the ground and the tree top in his gloved hands. Teeth gritted, he took aim and waited for an automaton to move into place. Just a little further, a little further…

THWISH-CRK!

The Alchemist sent himself flying through the air perhaps a bit faster than he anticipated, careening towards a brass head before smacking into it definitely harder than he had wanted to. He had planned to land and put something over the thing’s eyes, but instead the head caved under his foot, the body toppling over onto the hangar. He pushed off, somersaulting as he hit the roof, the body of the automaton slumping off the edge with its head destroyed. He skidded to a stop, looking over his shoulder, and turned back around to see the other two automatons looking down at him, their eyes glowing and their spears raised. With barely enough time to curse, The Alchemist leapt to the side dodging a wave of bullets. The hero ran across the thin roof towards the side of the building where he knew the fabrication machine sat, well aware that those bullets were piercing straight through the steel.

“Please don’t hit the hostages please don’t hit the hostages pleeeeeease…” he begged internally. He slid off the edge of the roof, briefly holding on to the lip before dropping to the ground below. The automatons were moving, stepping around to spot him again, but he moved faster, darting around the corner to enter the hangar, where he ran right into Roman himself. The pair collided hard and fell apart onto the ground.

“Alchemist, you fuc--!” Roman spat, glaring at him, but Alchemist wasn’t paying attention to him--he was more interested in the golden head poking out from around the back of the building. The hero leapt to his feet, grabbing Roman by the cape and throwing him hard against the interior wall, pinning him.

“Call off the automatons, Roman!” Alchemist hissed.

“What, you think I’m going to do it just because you asked nicely?” Roman retorted, hands on Alchemist’s wrists.

“No, you’re going to do it because I told you to,” the Alchemist’s eyes narrowed, and Roman felt a heat on his shoulders, through his armor. Roman’s eyes widened, and his hands moved fast, faster than Alchemist anticipated. He was forced to rear back as a sharp spear suddenly shot from Roman’s gauntlet towards his face. The Alchemist could feel its sharp point graze his hood as he leapt back. Roman stood there, breathing hard, eyes narrowed.

“You trying to kill me?!” the Alchemist spat.

“I could ask you the same thing, idiot!” Roman snarled, tapping a button on his control gauntlet. A nozzle rose from his tank. Alchemist braced, and was surprised as a jet of water shot out, spraying Roman. Distracted, he didn’t see the tank also prep another shot, and was suddenly engulfed by a chain net that knocked him off his feet and wrapped around him. He struggled with it, trying to get free, but was bound quite tight. Roman stood over him, frowning, and glanced at the cameraman, who had the camera raised and recording.

“You! Turn that off, just for a minute!” He ordered. The cameraman obeyed.

Roman then turned back to the Alchemist, who glared daggers up at him. Roman bent down, taking hold of the chains and lifting the Alchemist’s head off the ground so he could look him better in the face.

“Al, look, just a quick aside with you,” Alchemist stared up at his archnemesis suspiciously, eyes narrowed, and Roman ignored him and continued. “You can use acid, okay? You can use acid on my machines, on chains, walls, prison cells, whatever. But for the love of Pete, don’t fucking use hydroflouric acid on me. Do you realize how powerful that stuff is?” the Alchemist blinked, now looking a little confused.

“It’s really fucking powerful, okay? Really. Fucking. Dangerous. Don’t use it on me again, or I swear next time we meet, I will actually kill you. Understand?” Roman tipped his head a bit so the Alchemist could see his eyes a bit better through his helmet. The Alchemist looked him up and down, and then nodded.

“I wanna hear you say it, Al.” Roman raised an eyebrow. Alchemist sighed, rolling his eyes, and Roman shook him with the chains. “Say it, Al. If it’ll make sure you don’t do it again, you can give me your own condition.” The Alchemist’s face brightened.

“Don’t use armor-piercing bullets on me anymore. I’m not wearing kevlar or some shit,” the Alchemist responded almost immediately. Roman thought over it a second and nodded.

“Alright, deal.”

The Alchemist reached a hand awkwardly through the hole of the chains, and the two shook on it.

“Back to fighting?” the Alchemist inquired.

“Yep. Roll cameras.” Roman motioned to the perplexed cameraman, who fumbled and got the camera rolling again just in time to see the Alchemist push off the floor with his hands and uppercut the villain as he flipped through the air like a spinning log. He landed heavily back on the floor on his stomach, Roman staggering backwards.

“You--! How did you even do that!”

Roman popped his spear from his gauntlet, flicking it into full-length and charging at the Alchemist. The herot didn't wait, pushing himself some more and rolling, managing to stay just clear of the spear head--until he didn't, and it plunged into his back. The Alchemist shouted in pain, gripping the chains in his hands tightly.

"That's what you get, Alchemist!" Roman spat.

The Alchemist bit back another yelp as Roman pulled the spear out, pressing his face against the concrete, only to give a strained gasp as the spearhead stabbed into his bicep. Roman yanked the spear out, readying another stab, but was not nearly fast enough as The Alchemist rolled out of the way, getting to his feet, the chains sloughing off him with edges sizzling from acid.

“Dammit, you--” Roman was cut off as the Alchemist delivered a fast left hook and another fist to his gut. Roman staggered back as Alchemist ran past him towards the fabricator.

“No, Alchemist, don’t!”

TheAlchemist ignored him, throwing up his hands and spraying some liquid into the material receptacle. The machine didn’t stop, just continued chugging, but the Alchemist knew it wouldn’t be long before it did.

He turned to just barely dodge a spear that was flying towards his face. It lodged itself in the fabricator, much to Roman’s frustration.

“No!” Roman bellowed angrily.

The villain’s eyes widened as Alchemist ran towards him. He side-stepped one attack, then another, but not the third punch. The Alchemist grabbed him by the cape clasp at his throat and lifted him bodily into the air.

“Call off your machines, Roman,” Alchemist hissed. “Call them off or I’ll destroy them myself!”

“I think I’ll select the latter, thanks!”

Roman gripped the Alchemist’s forearm. The hero who shrieked. His muscles contracted uncontrollably before his whole body collapsed as Roman’s built-in taser did its job. The villain landed, backing away towards his tank as he tapped away on his gauntlet.

“Have fun with the big boys, Alchemist!” Roman grinned darkly, climbing up into his tank.

The Alchemist rose shakily onto his elbows, wondering what he could mean by that, when bullets started piercing the warehouse, climbing towards him. He gasped, rolling to the side and pelting towards the fabricator.

“Damn, he got me targeted!” he thought.

The Alchemist gritted his teeth, pushing off the floor and flying just over the top of the machine. He hung onto the wall for a second, waiting for the bullet spray to near, then kicked off. The bullets demolished the fabricator as the Alchemist leapt clear. He rolled as he hit the ground then ran for the large box bearing an antennae in the corner that was clearly not just part of the hangar. The hero had to wait a heart-pounding moment for the bullets to start moving towards him, but they did. Soon enough, they would have pierced through the box, tearing it to pieces.

“Yes!” the Alchemist punched the air, but his victory was short-lived. His suspicions had been correct: the box was indeed the signal relay for Roman’s instructions to the automatons, but gatling guns needed a little time to slow down and stop. Bullets, the spray slowing, still flew through the thin hangar walls. They hit their target. The Alchemist weakly jumped to the side, messily landing as pain bloomed like the blood on his leg, his side, arm, his ear. There was no more sound after that.

“Alchemist!” Ed called, getting to his feet, having long since wormed free from his bindings. He ran to the hero, kneeling beside him. “Damn villain lied!” the older man growled, looking over the Alchemist’s wounds. The hero shook his head weakly.

“N-no, it’s fine, he--nngh--he didn’t have time to--to switch the bullets,” The Alchemist wheezed. “Ahh, ff--ff--crap, crap, th-this doesn’t, doesn’t feel--” he cut off as there was a sound of groaning metal.

Air whistled past something and suddenly an automaton crashed through the opposite side of the hangar, falling and entirely crushing the fabricator. The ground shook as all three automatons fell to earth along with the two distant robots guarding the road. The Alchemist hoped that was it for the things on the bridge as well.

“Well,” The hero huffed a weak laugh. “Isn--isn’t that convenient?”

“Son, stop talking, you’re bleeding out,” Ed growled, reaching for the mask. “C’mon, you need to just breathe--” The Alchemist’s hand stopped him.

“N-no, it’s fine. J-just help me up, please,” The hero asked weakly, starting to move, only to gasp in pain.

“Boy, you aren’t thinking of moving, are you?” Ed raised an eyebrow.

“I called for an ambulance already,” The cameraman offered helpfully.

A solid black SUV skidded to a halt in front of the three men, its black-haired driver jumping out before the vehicle came to a complete stop.

“Ambulance won’t make it in time. Don’t worry; I’m with the League.” He flashed an official-looking badge at Ed and the cameraman before turning his entire attention to the Alchemist and the blood seeping through him onto the reddening concrete.

“I’ve got word that hospitals might not be safe any way. If I can stabilize him here, there’s a safehouse close by. You hear me, kid?”

The Alchemist’s brown eyes looked at him, glazed over but clearly recognizing him. “Oh, for the love….” He let his head fall back, staring up at the ceiling of the hangar. “Just… just do what you have to do, man….”

The hero heard Daniel steadily giving orders to Ed and the cameraman as the latter grabbed supplies from the SUV. He felt pressure, pain. There was the sense of movement and white bandages turning scarlet. Then everything began to blur. The world went black, with a familiar voice whispering in his mind, “you’ve got my work cut out for me this time, don’t you?”

---

Tag List (I’m including those of you who enjoyed the original Broken Pieces story, but if you want to be taken off, please just let me know!): @stoic-whumpee, @whatwasmyprevioususername, @whumpty-dumpty-fell-off-the-wall, @straight-to-the-pain, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @0idril0, @fallingstormphoenix, @whump-fantasies, @imagination1reality0, @whumpback-wail, @whump-tr0pes, @untilthepainstarts, @captivity-whump, @burtlederp, @redwingedwhump, @whumpiary, @captivity-whump, @blue-flare10

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ticktickblog · 4 years

Text

The 4Ds Framework: How Task Nesting Helps You with GTD

What is Task Nesting?

Commonly used in Computer Science and Informatics, Nesting usually means where information is organized in layers and locked up with hierarchy. Following the same concept, Task Nesting here simply means task hierarchy. This means, different tasks can always be logically connected rather than sparsely scattered in your to-do list. A complex task can also be split into multi-layer subtasks (up till 5 layers including the parent task)! In general, it’s like a “family tree” that all the tasks can find their own place.

Task Nesting vs. Check Item

Some of you might already be wondering, “Did the Subtask feature already exist, which you could access in the task description? Why is there a new Subtask feature?”

The previous Subtask (now renamed as Check Item), lying in the task description section, functions more like a checklist. You can split a task, e.g. packing for a trip, into multiple subtasks, and also set reminders for each task. However, what you could not do in there is sub-dividing it into more grades, or setting priority and tags for subtasks. Therefore, we have renamed it as “Check Item” and it still remains in the task description.

As for the new Subtask feature -- Task Nesting, I’d like to call it the real Subtask, because each subtask here is empowered with all the functions that a parent task has: setting tags, priority, reminder, assigning to others in a shared list, and etc.

Then, the confusion may rise, “Why do I need two Subtask systems?”

Like what was mentioned above, Task Nesting and Check Item function differently in many ways. In one word, Check Item is a lightweight version of Task Nesting. Put it in a more funny way, the former is like a “toddler”, while the latter has come into “adulthood”. Keeping both is actually allowing you more flexibility tailoring to your own needs of whether just a checklist with reminders could be enough or a whole subtask foundation with its own reminder, priority et al., is what you need.

How can Task Nesting helps with GTD (Getting Things Done)?

As David Allen’s theory in his book Getting Things Done, breaking a planned project into actionable items allows your attention to be focused on taking actual actions. Cutting a complex task, especially when it’s related to a big goal, e.g. an exam prep, or a product launch, into more digestible slices, is especially helpful for those who suffer from procrastination.

Not only being able to split tasks into smaller ones, a bigger advantage of Task Nesting is it brings a clear-cut structure showing the bonds between different tasks. This means tasks can be well sorted and organized based on their inner logic. Following what makes sense to you, the previously scattered tasks in your to-do list will no longer be single and can always be sensibly accommodated and grouped together. Therefore, you can not only know what needs to be done at what time, but also stay aware of the relationships between tasks (division and belongingness).

Task Nesting also makes the task arrangement more convenient, because every subtask incorporates the functionality of the parent task, which means it is able to maintain its own activities with separate contexts. It can also be put into different time blocks in your TickTick Calendar (Note: Subtasks will show without hierarchy in blocks.) More importantly, assigning different subtasks to other members also becomes simpler and more straightforward too, which makes team collaboration just a breeze if you’re all in a shared list.

Take Away: The 4D Framework

In summary, Task Nesting in TickTick helps you with GTD in terms of:

* Dividing tasks into subtasks

* Defining subtasks’ context

* Distributing subtasks to time blocks

* Delegating subtasks

QnA Time

1. Will the List Panel become messy if there are multi-layer Subtasks?

Not at all. You can choose to display or hide the Subtasks of a parent task, or even decide to only hide Subtasks in specific level(s), and display the rest. Anything as you like, really.

2. Is Task Nesting a premium feature?

NO NO NO. We love you all despite you’re using a free/premium account.

3. Is it mobile-only?

Nope. Available on all platforms:)

4. What else should I consider?

Seriously nothing. Download/Upgrade TickTick to help yourself getting things done with Task Nesting!

iOS

Android

Other platforms

#subtask #task nesting #task management #getting things done #todoapp #productivity #ticktick #new feature

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enter-design · 4 years

Photo

For my artist research i will talking about the designer Saul Bass. He a was an American graphic designer and filmmaker, his most active years were during 1954 and 1995. “He worked mostly for advertising until his first major break: a poster for the 1954 film, Carmen Jones” (poulwebb, 2012) Although his designs were mainly about film and posters, he also created film sequences and logo for a well-known mobile service. This first post, was one of his first Hollywood masterpiece. in this ‘Carmen Jones’ poster, Saul Bass used some edgy text in this design and I really like the colour he chose for this poster, they match really well I think the orange really compliments the brown and yellow. The movie is a musical and, in the poster, there are some faint musical notes in the back, this shows that Saul Bass understood the movie and made a poster design related to the movie. The smiley face and bright colours used set a happy mood.

Saul Bass main inspiration was his father who was worked with fur, his work amazed him, he mentioned talking about his father work “What he did that was quite extraordinary was draw flowers and birds. “He did decorative paper cut-outs too. He would take paper, fold it eight, ten, twelve times and then do his little thing with scissors. Then we’d have that grand moment where he unfolded the whole thing and it was just flowers and birds and trees, it was a whole world!” (Chiara et al., pg. 15 2017) Saul Bass would hand draw some sketches and parents would praise his work. Later Saul Bass discovered lettering and “Saul also wondered whether his passion for lettering and a desire to make art out of letters came from his father’s brother, a gravestone cutter who stayed in the old country” (Chiara et al., pg. 15 2017)

When movies were released in the past, they always showed a movie title, however in these titles there was no relation to the movie, what was included was names of actors, directors etc. It was boring, simple and had no emotion. Saul Bass saw this as an opportunity to create his own movie titles. In his movie title he would create little animations that was connected to the storyline. “Part of Saul Bass is genius was to understand what the movie was about and to do the designs for them appropriately” Youtube.com. (2010). it added more emotion to the movie and told a little about what the movie is about without telling too much. “when Saul bass started making prints the credits themselves were part of the film” Youtube.com. (2010). Saul Bass also created posters for the movies, he would try to understand the meaning of the movie then create a graphic illustration for this, he would try and sell the movie to his audience through his poster design. Smith, S. (2014).

The other three images I added are some examples of Saul Bass designs, majority of his designs included some silhouette and colourful backgrounds. Each of his designs tells a little bit about the movie without ruining the plot. The silhouette he used in his illustrations were a unique style this is because it isn’t a clean-cut silhouette like others out there. In this ‘Saint Joan’ poster I really like the background print the most it really stands out and bring the whole poster together.

Saul Bass created his own typography and what I like most about his typographic on the posters is where he places them, for example in these posters I have selected, In the ‘anatomy of a murder’ poster I found it clever and creative how Saul Bass used a silhouette of a corpse and added the text on top of the silhouette instead of making it adding the text right at the bottom like most poster are. Even for his ‘Saint Joan’ poster the text is near to the middle and bottom and the silhouette in at the top. In these posters, Saul Bass poster includes a single geometric style illustration and text which delivers a strong message and keys into a mood. Saul Bass designs were more structured.

References

Books

CHIARA, B., SILVIA, F., SOFIA, P. AND GIULIA, R. DesignVerso Saul Bass: through the looking glass Chiara, B., Silvia, F., Sofia, P. and Giulia, R. (2017). DesignVerso Saul Bass: through the looking glass. p.15.

Images

<https://www.google.com/search?q=carmen+jones&safe=strict&rlz=1C5CHFA_enGB736GB736&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjp6Z2C25_sAhVKUBUIHR3MBw8Q_AUoAXoECC8QAw&biw=1097&bih=659#imgrc=6o2-9_jEPgmTtM> [Accessed 4 October 2020].

Google.com. 2020. [online] Available at: <https://www.google.com/search?q=SAINT+JOHN+SAUL+BASS&safe=strict&rlz=1C5CHFA_enGB736GB736&tbm=isch&source=iu&ictx=1&fir=JV0C4849dTqduM%252CzaVADXMwMZTODM%252C_&vet=1&usg=AI4_-kRT-kHIObZqn7x-uc70QlyekhB3HQ&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjC442u25_sAhXUuHEKHd-LBEEQ9QF6BAgOEEE#imgrc=JV0C4849dTqduM> [Accessed 6 October 2020].

Google.com. 2020. [online] Available at: <https://www.google.com/search?q=anatomy+of+murder+saul+bass&safe=strict&rlz=1C5CHFA_enGB736GB736&hl=en&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjj-vGA3J_sAhUnSBUIHcsWBxIQ_AUoAXoECBAQAw&biw=1097&bih=659#imgrc=UDBCLTDH7mHNuM> [Accessed 6 October 2020].

Google.com. 2020. [online] Available at: <https://www.google.com/search?q=vertigo+saul+bass+ORIIGNAL+&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwicwp-N3J_sAhVKeRoKHUluBiEQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=vertigo+saul+bass+ORIIGNAL+&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQAzoCCAA6BggAEAgQHjoECAAQHlDKL1j0RGC2RmgAcAB4AIABQIgBsAWSAQIxMpgBAKABAaoBC2d3cy13aXotaW1nwAEB&sclient=img&ei=tUF8X9yTL8ryacncmYgC&bih=659&biw=1097&rlz=1C5CHFA_enGB736GB736&safe=strict#imgrc=MQ4V77Jwj9gYSM> [Accessed 6 October 2020].

Podcast

Smith, S. (2014). A Life in Film and Design. [podcast] 1: Saul Bass - Part 1. Available at: https://podtail.com/en/podcast/the-poster-boys/1-saul-bass-part-1/ [Accessed 07 Sept. 2020].

Video Youtube.com. (2010). YouTube. [online] Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jFpQMpsMiE [Accessed 06 Sept. 2020].

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halethkickass · 5 years

Text

Too Long a Winter (reposted with permission from Clotho)

I found this wonderful fic on http://clotho123.tripod.com/mainlist1/winter.htm and the author kindly gave me permission to share it here on Tumblr. The story is phenomenally well-written and the characterization is excellent. I especially appreciate the dynamic between Maedhros and Maglor, which is far less sentimental and much more in line with how I tend to head-canon them than that of most fics I have read. The story is told from the perspective of a human warrior dwelling in Himring, which lends an interesting viewpoint to the elves we are used to seeing through the eyes of a somewhat removed historian.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Himring is not a good place for old men. Often I think of riding south again, to the Estolad where there are fewer cold winds to piece my aching bones and no long stone stairs to climb. Yet to leave would mean never again to see the morning sun on silver stone, or turn a corner at night to see a solitary lamp shine on the carved street before me, or watch the magic the Strangers work as they coax flowers to grow on rock itself.

It does help me having lodgings in the summit halls. Himring is steep: in the town that lies beneath the peak a paved courtyard will prove to be the roof of the house below, nor is it rare to walk down long stairs and find yourself upon a deep balcony. All space is used for dwellings, although all dwellings will be filled only at the height of siege. Himring was built as a place of refuge as well as a stronghold; it has been full enough these last years. It is fortunate my duties can be discharged with goodwill on the summit where the High Hall rises in the silver rock. My mind goes often to the past now, recalling more clearly than for many years, the wonder I felt to see how so much if the city had been cut from the rock as it stood, the very contours of the stone summit kept alive. Yet Himring is no hidden city, it stands proud as an eagle upon a crag, keeping watch on the lands below.

The Midwinter festival would have been well attended even in the better times before the peace was broken; now the High Hall will be full indeed. It is one thing they have learned from us, the great feast of fire at the year’s darkest point, and they celebrate it much as we do, even if some of the older ones like to recall the days when there were no seasons. We have no tales even of that time, so such stories mark more deeply how much they differ.

The green boughs are another of traditions they have borrowed although I recall from my gathering days that they practice it differently, each bough chosen with care, seldom more than two from one tree or bush and from some none at all. “Trees,” one said to me once, “ can spare a limb if chosen right, indeed are often the better for it, but why would anyone wish to leave a tree limbless?” The gathered braches look strangely fitting in the High Hall, for the rock-cut columns are carved as tree trunks, not all alike but trees of all kinds: oak and birch, beech, ash and pine. With the evergreen boughs in place it will be a strange kind of forest in which we sit to feast.

As I turned to leave the half-prepared hall I heard my name spoken sharply. A little too sharply in truth, my sight is thankfully still good enough, but not so my hearing and I guessed I must have failed to hear at least one call. That is not fortunate with this speaker.

“Lord Makalaurë,” I greeted him. He insists on being addressed by the High form of his name, although everyone calls him Maglor outside his hearing.

“Headman Hallach.” I still hold the title of Headman for the Edain of Himring although Berach my nephew leads them in war. He was out of the citadel of course; with fighting so constant he is rarely here. “We have had word my brothers in the south will not be joining us for the feasting,” Lord Maglor continued, “so that will lessen the amount of accommodation that you will need to find.”

“We could have housed them,” I said, “but it is better to know beforehand.” Our word ‘inhuman’ is an old one, from the times before we came to these lands, it carries a meaning of something that is uncanny, disturbing. It is held impolite to use it of Elves but it is seldom far from my mind when speaking to this one. Like most of his kind he is handsome with black hair and winged brows that highlight the mobility of his features; still he is unsettling, even to one like myself who has lived amongst the Strangers for most of my life. I cannot put it better than to say it is as though he is constantly listening to a tune that only he can hear, and thinks the less of others for being deaf to it. In fairness, these days I unsettle him too, for he is one of those who are disturbed to the point of disgust by mortal aging although he would feel it beneath him to lessen his courtesy.

“Do you know when my brother is expected back?” he asked.

“No more than you, although I am sure he will be in time for the feasting.”

“Of course,” he said. “But I would wish to see him earlier. Erestor does not know when he will return either. It is inconsiderate.” It was an unfair complaint, as he must have known. A survey of territories, half visit, half scouting expedition, could not be completed to set times and his brother never dawdled not even with snow falling every day upon the hills. We would always vary those chosen to ride with the lord of Himring, for no-one was expect to make two such exhausting rides in succession. Knowing it unlikely that Lord Maglor’s temper would improve during the feasting time I found myself regretting we would not be joined by the twin lords who would have provided some leavening. The absence of Lord Caranthir was less regrettable as no-one would count on his presence to prevent family arguments.

We parted politely. With so much else lost it is petty to regret that the great reverse has led to Lord Maglor being permanently at Himring, but it does nothing to make the mood easier.

~~~

The Feast was much needed. Enough time has passed since the great reverse that the remembrance is no longer a dark cloud on the spirits, at least for mortals; but still the presence of war seems nearer, the mood at Himring darker, than in the days when I first came here from the south. Perhaps that is only an old man talking, but certainly both peoples thronged to the gathering, eager to forget the wars awhile.

The Strangers are masters of light, although I have never known one who feared the dark, and the light in the High Hall was rich and golden. Mead and wines from the south flowed freely, although some of my kindred preferred their ale, and there was no shortage of meat and pastry. Their feasts, however, are not for the belly alone; there was much song and music, dancing, laughter and re-telling of tales. A hall full Elves singing in harmony is not to be forgotten, it almost makes me understand that odd tale that the world was created by a song. By long custom the songs and tales at the Midwinter feast are of good cheer, it is a time to look forward and to hope.

It was the third evening when Lord Maglor took the harp. No, in fact he had taken it on the first two evenings also, but only for a brief light song, the third evening was the time that mattered. I had heard him sing many times, and what they say of him is not too great praise, indeed it falls short as all words must. A singer to draw the stars from the skies and turn back the moon in its course, a singer to make stones dance and streams stand still, despair laugh for joy and gladness weep like rain. Not that he unleashed his full power every time he sang, that third night was the first time that Midwinter.

He sang in the High Tongue, as he always does which makes his power to move Men the more remarkable. Few of us have mastered more of that tongue than a few words and commonly used phrases, such as war cries, and in that I am no different. Yet what he sang was a lament as plainly as the night is dark. The grief wailed in the strings and wept in words beyond my understanding, and through my tears I saw the whole hall was weeping, Men and Elves alike, weeping silently, some with faces hidden by a cloak fold, or buried in their hands or arms. Erestor, the castellan, seemed completely overwhelmed, nor was he the only one among the elf kind. Recalling the scene now it seems to me that the ones we call Flame-eyed, who have dwelt in the West, made up the greatest part of those who had abandoned themselves completely to grief, yet in light of how deeply moved my own senses were I cannot swear my memory is true.

After the song ended, as the nameless mourning at last released its spell, my eyes cleared enough to see the only one who seemed unmoved. Maedhros sat upright and tearless in his accustomed place at the high table, only his face was locked in an intense stillness which showed to one who had dwelt in Himring many years how hard he had bitten down to hide all feeling. He sat with his right elbow resting on the table, forearm upraised so the light fell on the marvellously worked copper sheath that covered it almost entirely. With the copper circlet on his russet hair he looked every bit the King of the West March his followers call him.

“Remarkable as always,” he said in the cool even tone that spoke of steel control. “Could do with a little taughtening in the central section still, you are capable of better rhythms.”

Maglor’s expression hardened and as they met each other’s eyes it seemed the winter outside entered the room. In that moment they looked very much alike, and no fool would have mistaken either of them for young.

“You take a pride in it, brother, do you not,” Maglor said at last in a tone smooth as gold. “You think you are the better that old loyalties, true duties, have been ripped from you and burned to cinders.”

Maedhros’s voice was cold as snow upon the high peaks, “If to spellcraft tears at time of festival is loyalty, Maglor, then I will not disagree.” Spellcraft was close to being insult, the word was not used of things natural. “Well, tears it must be for this night. Bron, give us a song of your people.”

The young harper thus commanded was one of the followers of Bor only lately taken service with Lord Maglor. It seemed to me hard to give him such a command and I wondered if he would be able to obey, but it seemed he took it with pride, as a young brave might accept the most dangerous post in battle. I doubt if any in the hall paid much heed to his song though.

The next day I cornered Castellan Erestor. Although he is one of the Flame-eyed who have dwelt in the West he seems less far removed from our kind than many Elves.

“What,” I said “was that about? What was that song?”

“The song?” said Erestor. He seemed to consider for a long time. I waited. Elves cannot be rushed. “The song was a lament for their father. For Fëanor.”

“For Fëanor?” I had heard tales, but only fragments. Fëanor was dead before the first Men came to Beleriand from the east. Maedhros speaks of him very rarely, and then in the calm tone he might use for a passing acquaintance, dead long ago. “A lament was a poor choice for a feast, but is that all?”

“No,” said Erestor. “The lament praised his skill, and his courage against the creatures of Morgoth, but it praised also his steadfastness in upholding what was due to him, his intolerance of weakness or those that followed with half a heart.”

“I begin to see, I think. That could seem reproach to his brother, for letting the kingship pass from their house.” I knew that much of their history.

“It was a more than reproach, and not for the first time. Lord Maglor has seldom agreed with his brother’s choices.”

“Yet he remains at Himring.”

“Whilst Lothlann is in enemy hands he will remain, I think.” A mortal would probably have sighed at this point. “You do not need to be told it makes matters difficult, Hallach. At least when all the brothers are present Maglor and Celegorm spend half their time quarrelling with one another.”

After we had parted I spent some time thinking over this, and all the other things known of the king and his next brother. I had come to Himring, following the tradition of my house, with a head full of tales. Not all were reliable, or true at all, and of those which were true I knew only a small part. But I had heard truly that Maglor the Singer was of all the East lords the most likely to be found riding or fighting with his brother Maedhros Left-hand. I had thought that meant they must be close friends; it is more like the old saying ‘keep your enemy close in sight.’

True, that is not entirely fair, but the years have shown me Elves are not as unlike us as the first meetings make all Men think, so it should not have surprised me that where brothers are closest in age the divisions are bitterest. So it is with myself and my nearest brother, although we are brothers still and would not hesitate to unite against any outside challenge. How far this ran true with the Elf lords is hard to say, certainly the divisions between them made my own with my brother seem nothing at all. I knew at least that Lord Maglor did not spend time with his brother Maedhros for the pleasure of shared company.

~~~

Two days later they walked in while I was listing the new recruits from my southern kindred in one of the summit chambers, one with walls painted so you seem to look out on scenes of moonlight. It was still being made when I first came here, and I recall my surprise to see the Lord of Himring himself working on one of the painted scenes, completing the figure of an owl with the lightest of brush strokes. He laughed at my expression and told me, “The need to create is never far from any Noldo. I cannot claim my skill is remarkable, but it suffices.”

Between the work and my hardness of hearing I was not aware of their approach until they had already entered. As a young man I would have been abashed and slipped away, but being no longer young stayed at the table. Since they were arguing in the High Tongue it was impossible to tell what they were saying in any case.

Lord Maglor does not shout. Family meetings have been known to make the castle walls shake, but most of the yelling is done by Celegorm and Caranthir, although Maedhros can raise his voice loud enough when he wishes. Maglor makes his arguments with level quiet. It does not do him any good: he never wins. Although there is nothing at all amusing about the lord of Lothlann in his moods of cold attack, he does make me think at times at times of a pair of young dogs I once owned. The smaller of the two would attack the other over and over, without any warning; he never won the battles but he kept it up in the constant hope that one day he would win after all.

Whilst my mind had been running on that as my mind often runs on these days, the quarrel seemed to be reaching some kind of high point. I have seen Maglor in battle and his face as he skewered the orcs of the enemy had not seemed any less pleasant. I could not understand the words he was using, but took their meaning as clearly as the meaning of his lament in the great hall. Maedhros’s answer was short and very ugly. Again I could not understand the words, nor I am sure did Maglor, but that was unneeded.

Elves do not have curse words. The need for them is something they seem to have discovered only in these lands. Most of those who feel that need use words they have learned from us. I have heard Lord Curufin use the dwarf tongue at times, although with that speech it is possible that what sounds like a curse may be merely ‘Good Morning.’ I have never heard Maedhros use mannish curse words, nor have I ever known him lose control. He had not used the Black Speech lightly.

I looked at Maglor and felt sure he had been shaken although he tried to cover it. Maedhros took advantage to follow through with two or three short, cold sentences in the High Tongue. Maglor’s reply was sharp, but he sounded wrong-footed, and after a brief, savage final exchange he flung out of the room.

Maedhros did not attempt to ignore my presence, instead he took a flagon and poured half a cup of wine for me and some into a second cup for himself.

“I would not have chosen for you to hear that, Hallach, but I do not suppose it surprised you.”

“I cannot say I understood what passed, my lord,”

“You may not have known the words, but you understood enough.”

Even Elves, even the Flame-eyed, have been known to speak of something unsettling about the presence of Maedhros of the East March. It is not the same quality possessed by his brother; perhaps it is not so much any quality that differs from others of his kind as that he possesses their qualities more intensely, or that there is in him less of a barrier between the world and the thing Elves call the spirit. There is a force about most of the Flame-eyed like a high wind or a river in spate, but with Maedhros it is like facing into the wind directly instead of being in the lee of a wall, or seeing a flame that is naked rather than one held in a horn lantern.

I have served him most of my life and followed him into battle even when none thought that we could win. And the old, I have learned, do not feel awe easily “He has never forgiven you for yielding the kingdom,” I said.

“That is part of it, although we were not on the most easy of terms before.” His tone was matter-of-fact. “Maglor would not even like to be king. He is like our father in that way, the duties of kingship would take time from the works where his heart truly lies, and he would resent that. No, the injury is to his pride and there is small healing there.”

He drained the cup. “There was a time,” he said, “when fighting with my brothers was invigorating. Like a day’s hard riding or a successful skirmish. Now it grows wearisome, the more so because I fear for them. They may lose us the war yet.”

We are used to thinking of the Strangers as changeless, and as my limbs ache more and more and my hearing fails I cannot but envy them, ever young as they are, forever straight of back and free in movement. It does not do to dwell on the envy, some of my kin have been eaten up with bitterness as they grow older and that does no good to anyone. I have looked at them and have seen only the constants, now for the first time I wondered if there have been changes. Lord Maglor was never on friendly terms with his brother; I could not say if there have been changes beyond what would be expected from his being so continually at Himring. Maedhros the king, has he changed? Am I right to think there are more times of cold control, such as he showed his brother in the hall?

“Perhaps we should retake Lothlann before Thargelion,” I said. The plans for recapture of the lost lands are still in an early stage and known only to a few, it had not been settled which lands to retake first.

Maedhros laughed, with genuine amusement. “No, strategy had better not be determined by which of my brothers is most annoying at present, tempting though it is. Which is taken first must depend on the Naugrim; we will need their aid to retake Thargelion. If I cannot convince them to give it until we can show them victories then we must retake Lothlann first, but it would be easier to take Lothlann if we already have Thargelion.” His voice took on a wry tone as he added, “Whichever we take first Maglor and Caranthir will quarrel violently.”

Whichever we took would be a hard campaign, with Dorthonion in enemy hands. He spoke as if there was no doubt of victory, but it is the task of a leader to show confidence.

“It must be soon, with or without the Naugrim” he went on “We cannot afford to leave Morgoth with the upper hand for long. I will go to Belegost.” Although he still spoke calmly I recalled that we cannot expect Angband to rest quiet now the Siege is broken. Himring is strong, but Angband is stronger and the alliance among the elf-kind is vulnerable. For the first time I was glad of my mortal age, and the thought that I would most likely not see what lay ahead. He would see it.

“I will fetch the latest maps, and Castellan Erestor if he can be found,” I said, “we can work on possible plans for a while.” Inwardly I resigned myself to loss of sleep, no elf ever remembers how much more of it we need.

The maps are kept in a chamber painted as a glade in springtime. I lingered for a while after I had found the ones wanted, and hoped that when spring came indeed it would bring promise of the victories that all within these walls would need.

Endnote: Just to say there is canon evidence (admittedly slight) for Maedhros being styled king, and also for the retaking of Lothlann and Thargelion

Source: http://clotho123.tripod.com/mainlist1/winter.htm

#maedhros #maglor #himring #silmarillion

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